


The Speed Freak and the Comic Geek

by GrittyReboot



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Disabled Character, F/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:45:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrittyReboot/pseuds/GrittyReboot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe on another world we'd be different; we'd have more money, smoother edges, family besides each other. But I know one thing, if I couldn't have him, I'd say screw that other world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night Owls

**Author's Note:**

> No matter how many times I say I’m going to quit fanfic for a while and focus on my novel and my homework, I keep getting new ideas. But in my defense I’ve been doing pretty well with both, so I took the day to give you this. I hope you enjoy my urban take on Westallen. There was no warning category for it, but this story contains casual drug use, be advised.

That bed looks so good right now. It looks like naked Ryan Gosling, all it needs is me on it. I have to finish this issue though, if it doesn’t go to print on time I’m out of a whack but still much needed advance. I think the _Speed Freak_ books are picking up steam, they even outsold _Action Girl_ and _Dr. Damage_ last month, but mine was a special double issue featuring the Return of Ice Biotch. 

I think Barry’s a little more used to the idea of being the face of Speed Freak (although I’m not going to lie, there’s a little Gosling from the neck down, he is on my list of three guys I’m allowed to cheat on Barry with, after all). I know he saw right through it when I showed him the first issue. The Comic’s about Brady Niell, a crippled guy from the sticks who decides to fight crime when a superdrug gives him speed powers. There are some key differences though.

Brady was a cop before his car accident.

Barry was a track star before the MS. And he kind of hates cops, although he says Brady’s one of the good ones.

 

Brady has a nice mom and dad.

Barry never knew his parents, we both grew up in foster care. he and I were in the same home for four years starting in Elementary school, we clicked and stayed clicked ever since.

 

Brady’s drug of choice is Velocity 9 

Barry’s drug of choice is all the weed.

 

Brady’s girlfriend Violet is an awesome guerilla reporter.

I'm a struggling comic book author. But I won’t be struggling for long. My dream is to get us out of this hole once and for all. Not to the ‘burbs or anything lame like that, but maybe a cool city, with an art scene and some clubs, the ones that play good music, not that trance crap. We’d live in a place with a view of something other than hookers and puking crackheads. 

I can’t quite get Barry’s face right on this panel. I think it’s because he needs to come home already. Pictures don’t do it. I hate that he has to work such late hours. He’ll have his degree soon though, it’s taken him nine years and some change having to work full time. And with all of the doctor’s appointments, sex, pot and sex, I’m beginning to suspect he actually is a speedster.

I perk up when I hear the first of 4 locks being turned from the other side of the door. I set my pencil down and scramble up to greet him.

“Hey babe,” he says, walking in on his forearm crutches. He doesn't need them all the time yet. “Still up?”

“The new issue’s due for inking tomorrow night,” I say, my expression falling. I glance over at the clock on my drawing table, it reads 12:56. “Make that tonight.”

He stands over the table and looks down at the new panel. It’s just after Ice Biotch has hurled a flurry of frozen shrapnel at Speed Freak.

 _“What, you were expecting an ice pun first? Sorry babe I don’t talk dirty, I play dirty,”_ it says in her word bubble.

“That’s sick West,” Barry says with a smile in his tired voice, he kisses me firmly on the temple. “But you look beat as shit, maybe come to bed awhile?”

“I promise I will after I’m done with this splash page,” I say.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and makes his way over to the bed. He sets his crutches against the wall and starts to take off his faded plaid shirt, his gray wife beater, shoes, socks, jeans… boxers.

Oh that’s just mean.

He spreads out on the bed, situated in the corner of our studio apartment, and he reaches over to the nightstand to grab the joint he rolled before work and his red lighter. He lights it and takes a slow drag.

“Let me know if you want any of this,” he says behind the thick white cloud, his voice slightly high pitched and raspy with smoke. He nods down at his junk “or, you know, any of this.”

“You’re an asshole,” I say.

“You love me,” he quips back.

I have two pages left, each one takes me about five hours or so depending on the amount of detail involved. If I get up at four I can finish by two, giving me more than enough time to get it to Kyle’s studio by five for inking. I can relax, I'm just not a huge fan of relaxing. Barry does look really good naked though.

“What the hell,” I say, putting my pencil down. I walk to the bed in three long strides and straddle his naked lap.

“Why hello, so good of you to join me,” he says, passing the joint to me. “It’s a sativa blend, genetically modified it myself.”

“Science geek,” I take a drag and keep it in as I go to kiss him.

“How was work?” I continue as I come up for air.

“Long,” he answers. Him and Cisco, his hetero life mate from college, run a small cyber security firm together, they do well enough considering they only have two regular clients. Their major competition is Smoak and Mirrors Security one town over. He says they do so much better because the chick who runs it has degrees coming out of her ass. 

_“People trust you if you have the right piece of paper on your wall,”_ Barry had said when he told me he was going for his Master’s, but I don’t think that’s true. I think he just really likes to learn, he always has. If he hadn’t been suspended so many times in high school he could have been valedictorian. Also, I know his passion isn’t cyber security. He’ll never admit it, but I think he’s always seen himself in one of those big chem labs, with goggles and beakers and shit. I don’t know much about all that, I only know about the made up kind of science, but he was always doing little experiments when he was a kid, staring at stuff under his cheap microscope, growing gross things in petri dishes, building smoke bombs, usually to fuck with the asshole neighborhood kids

He was forced into track sophomore year, they said he needed structure and sports were good for that, and they all noticed how fast he tended to run from people trying to kick his ass for one reason or another, usually for being one of the only white kids in school, and a skinny one at that. He hated it at first, it was hard to be on a team when you pretty much only trusted one person (i.e. me), but he grew to love it after a while, especially with me there to cheer him on from the bleachers. I know he misses it, that some days he wishes he could just get out and run, but I like to think he still has more than enough to make him happy.

I trace the tattoo on his ribs with my fingers while I take another drag. The one on his ribs is an iris. The one on my tit is a strawberry. I comb a bit of my blue streaked hair behind the six rings in my ear and kiss him again. 

“You ever think we got married too soon?” I say.

“Love you too babe,” Barry says sarcastically, taking the glowing joint from me.

“I’m serious, you ever think that maybe we’re like, prematurely old now? Wouldn’t it have been cooler of us to live in sin like a couple of anti-establishment badasses?”

“First of all, anyone with fourteen different cookbooks just for desserts is not a badass,” I cross my arms and glare at him in faux-offense. “Second of all…"

He grabs my ass and I let out a little squeal.

“I’d marry you again in a hot second West.”

“You know, I think I’d marry you again too, unless I met Ryan Gosling first.”

“You and your creepy obsession with Gosling.”

“What can I say, guitarists do it for me almost as much as science geeks.”

I grab the joint, take a final drag and stub out the butt in the ashtray. His skin already feels softer under my fingers, his eyes already look greener under the soft light. He’s gone hard under me and I strip off my top. I’m not wearing a bra and he looks grateful for that fact. I feel the coldness of his ring against my nipple as he cups my tits. 

“Wait,” I say. I reach over for his cell phone and set the alarm for four am. “So I don’t get my ass reamed by my inker.”

I collapse down onto him again, tasting his lips, feeling his scratchy stubble, thinking I’d marry him again in a hot second too. Maybe on another world we'd be different; we'd have more money, smoother edges, family besides each other. But I know one thing, if I couldn't have him, I'd say screw that other world. 

That's all folks! (maybe)


	2. A Case Of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this story has gone over well enough for me to continue. I don't know how long it'll end up being but I definitely have a storyline in mind, which I'm jumping straight into.

I should tell her already, I know I should. Me and my girl don’t keep secrets from each other. It’s been that way ever since I faceplanted on the track junior year in college, more than seven years ago. My leg had been bothering me the whole week and my vision was weird, but I thought maybe if I powered through, the way I’d had to my whole Goddamn life, then it would be okay. She kept asking if I was okay and I kept saying I was even though I was starting to get scared, and I could tell she wanted to keep pushing it, but she didn’t because she trusted me.

I’d waved to her from my position on the track and she waved back. She looked beautiful that day, granted she always did, but that day, looking at her face and her smile, it just made everything better for a minute. There was no way I was going to botch the race with her there, supporting me the way she always had. Her hair was kool-aid red and chin-length that year, and she was still working full time at the coffee house and going to J-school at night, but she made time to be there for me. I wasn’t about to let her down.

Except I did let her down, her and my whole team. I was already a few yards behind when my leg fucked me over and I ended up facedown on the sand. I probably could have gotten up, tried to finish, but somehow I knew it wouldn’t matter, that that was it. There was something wrong and no amount of denial would fix it. She ran out onto the track, shoving everyone out of the way and came up to me and I sat up to face her. There were tears in my eyes for the first time in years. And I told her that something was wrong with me, and that I was sorry, and she held me and told me it was okay, right there, as if no one else existed. I cried hard against her shoulder and held her tight, feeling weak and like a failure.

I was always the one who was supposed to protect her, that was my job, and not because of some sexist bullshit, it’s just the way it was, ever since we were kids. When she was 15 and old man Snart, her foster dad at the time, beat the shit out of her, I was the one to beat the shit out of him. I was never the best fighter but I could step up when I had to, and when she called me in tears that night, and I went to her house and saw how the bastard blacked her eye and busted her lip, I stepped right the fuck up, because nobody messed with my Iris. But I couldn’t step up anymore, not after the doctor told me I was going to be a damn cripple a few years down the line.

The night of my diagnosis I couldn’t look at her, I laid facing the wall in our bedroom. Cisco popped in from time to time, asking if I wanted something to eat, or if I wanted to talk, I just mumbled no every time. When Iris came in I told her I wanted to be alone, but she wouldn’t listen, she just laid down on my bed and spooned me. I wanted her gone, but not nearly as much as I wanted her there.

“It’s okay baby,” she whispered.

“No it isn’t,” I said. “I’m broken.”

“You are not broken Barry,” she said firmly, like it was a fact. 

“Yes I am, that’s what this does, it breaks you. It takes a long time, but eventually that’s what happens, you break.”

She held me tighter and kissed the back of my head. “Then if you break I’m just going to have to put you back together, aren’t I?”

I turned in her arms and spent a really long time looking at her face. 

“I wish I didn’t love you so much,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because then I could be selfless and let you go, but I can’t.”

“Then don’t,” she said.

We made love for the first time that night. Don’t get me wrong, we’d fucked plenty of times before that, that’s all we ever did, the angry, back-clawing, hair-pulling, deep-thrusting kind of fucking popular with porn stars the world over, even our first time had been best described that way, a minute and 45 seconds worth of fucking. It was always the way we let out our frustration with the world, just going crazy on each other, the tender stuff always came after when we were tangled in the sheets together, and I’d listen to her heartbeat and she’d run her fingers through my hair, but there was nothing tender about the actual sex. That night was different. We undressed each other really slowly and she pulled me on top of her and we kissed the whole time and we sort of trembled against each other when we came. I cried myself to sleep that night, because I was sick and she was still there, the way she always had been. It was then I promised I would always tell her everything.

But I’m breaking that promise as we speak, because she has no idea I’m meeting with Police Captain West today. I know this is the right thing, the right job. The only thing keeping Cisco from taking that position with Smoak and Mirrors is me, and the fact that he can’t leave me behind. If I get this job he won’t have to, also it pays a lot more. It’s not fair that I can’t pull my own weight at home, even if there are some days I literally, physically can’t pull my own weight. Besides, I'm getting my degree in forensic sciences for a reason, so I could be better than the assholes who let my parents murderers go free. I think that’s why Iris made me a cop in her Speed Freak books, she’s always seen me as more heroic than I saw myself. She started the series as a way to get me out of my funk (although she kind of hilariously tried to deny it at first) but it was so good I insisted she try to get it sold, and now it’s actually doing pretty well. We’re still poor as shit but we’re getting by, we can even afford cable and a few nights out every month, something we were never supposed to be able to do considering our start in life.

I had to splurge on a new outfit for this interview. None of my clothes could be considered job interview clothes. I didn’t even own a tie but I do now, and a tweed blazer. I even shaved and got a haircut, and I feel like a fucking square but it’ll be worth it.

Chief West comes in right on time, and I stand up to shake the man’s hand. He’s huge, even taller than I am, and definitely broader, but I don’t allow myself to look the least bit intimidated by him.

“Barry Allen,” He says. “Have a seat.”

I do, and he does the same. There’s a picture of him and a handsome kid with ears that stick out, and another of him and a pretty lady with a baby swaddled in her arms, I’m guessing the baby is the same big-eared kid. 

“So, I went over your resume, I have to say, I’m not totally convinced,” he said. “No internship experience, and you have an arrest record.”

“That’s not on my resume,” I said.

“I was a detective first Mr. Allen. Possession of Marijuana and MDMA at 17. Would you even be able to pass a drug test?”

“I can pass a drug test,” I said.

“By not doing drugs?”

I just gave him an amused smile. It wasn’t like I’d ever be stupid enough to go to work high.

“So why should I hire you?”

“Well, I graduated with a 3.7 GPA in physics and chemistry and I’m about to receive my master’s in forensic sciences. For the last 3 years I’ve ran a cyber security firm wit-

“Listen, I know all this Mr. Allen,” he said. “I want to know why _you_ want this job.”

“Well, when I was two my parents were killed in a car jacking. I was in the backseat. And because the incompetent assholes working the scene made a mistake with the evidence the guy went free, my parents never got the justice they deserved.”

“So, what are you saying, you have some sort of vendetta?”

“No sir, I let that go a long time ago, doesn’t mean I don’t think there’s still a lot of room for improvement.”

He glares at me over tented fingers, trying to figure me out. “What it sounds like to me is that you don’t care too much for cops.”

“Can’t say that I do, no. But I can work on a team, and I don’t miss anything, ever.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs, cupping his chin, and if he weren’t intrigued the interview would have been over when I said the word asshole. “Prove it.”

“Well, you have a dog,” I say. I reach over and pick the loose charcoal grey hair off of his lapel, short and nearly undetectable against the grey of his suit. “Missed one.”

“Could be cat hair.”

“Cat hair tends to have a downier quality,” I say, and his eyes narrow in contemplation.

“I could have pet one on my way over.”

“If that were the case the hair would have been on your sleeve,” I said. “So, what’s his name?”

“Fox,” he said in a deadpan way.

“Good name.”

He leans in a bit, and his face softens. “What about your…”

“Crippy boy status?”

“I was going to say disability.”

“I know its not like the movies, I’m not going to be running around with a gun, most of it is lab stuff.”

“True enough, but we can’t have a lab assistant who’s taking sick days every other week.”

“My MS is under control, I haven’t missed a day of work in three years,” I said. “You can ask all two of my regular clients.”

He almost laughs at that.

“What about your wife?" he says, glancing at my ring. "She’s okay with the idea of you putting away dangerous criminals?

She doesn’t even know I’m here, but I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get to it. Even still, it’s not the job she’s going to be upset about.

“My wife wants me to do all of the things that everyone says I can’t, that’s all she ever tells me,” I say.

“Sounds like a good woman.”

“She’s the best.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Ten years in October.”

“What were you, nine when you got hitched?”

“18, actually.”

He lets out a low, guttural chuckle.

“18? I thought you were smart," he says.

I don’t take it personally, he doesn’t know us, besides, most people that get married as teens really are idiots.

“She was my only family since I was seven, I figured I might as well make it official.”

“I’m sorry son, didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” I said, shrugging.

“What does she do? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“She writes and illustrates that comic book, Speed Freak. She also does some freelance articles for Picture News once in a blue moon.”

“No kidding, my kid Wally loves that book. How do you even need this job? You’d think she’d make enough for the both of you.”

“That’s what everyone assumes, but it’s criminal how underpaid she is.”

He looks nearly guilty at my words, probably because he has no intention of improving our financial situation.

“Listen, kid,” he says behind a deep sigh, and I know what’s coming next. “You’re obviously very bright, a bit of a smartass, but bright.”

“I’m just too big of a liability, right?”

“Your words, not mine.”

I let out a low exhale and shift a bit in my seat. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. But I suppose it would have to eventually.

“Damn, I really didn’t want to have to depend on nepotism for this gig.” I say

“What, you related to someone at the precinct?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Who?”

I pause for effect, then I say simply, confidently, “You.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

He looks confused, I don’t blame him.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Well, I did my research on you too Captain West, and I’m about 99.99 percent sure that you’re my father-in-law.”

**Stay tuned folks!**


	3. Sing Me Your Secrets

He’s making dinner when I get back from Kyle’s studio. He's so good on his crutches they’re like an extension of him, barely limiting his movements as he flits around, grabbing ingredients from every corner of our tiny kitchenette. There's a Marlboro dangling from his mouth that he takes a second to light on the burner. He doesn't smoke regular cigarettes very often, his doctor says it's especially frowned upon for people with his condition. It's usually just when he's stressed out about something. I'd call him on it but I'm so happy not to have to cook right now I decide to let it go. I usually do the honors but it’s his day off and I’ve had almost zero sleep in the last three days getting the issue done.

I think I'm so distracted by the cigarette it takes me longer than necessary to realize that his scruff is gone, and his hair is only a little bit longer than it was during his buzz cut phase in college. The change makes him look almost unnervingly young.

“I can see your face,” I say coming up to him and touching his clean shave. “And you're smoking. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry I’ll be sexy again tomorrow,” he says. We kiss against the counter, I put my hands on his lower back and pull him gently closer. I have to admit, I miss the tickle of his permanent nine o’clock shadow, but this is nice too.

“Still, your face hasn’t been this smooth since you realized you could grow facial hair, what’s the occasion?” I say, I pluck the cigarette from between his fingertips before he has the chance to take another puff, and I stub it out in the sink. He gives me a little acquiescing sigh but otherwise remains silent. I set my purse on the counter and hop up next to it. He situates himself between my knees and looks into my eyes. He seems guilty for some reason, what could he possibly be guilty for? He didn’t shave because he committed some sort of crime did he? Because I feel like being noticeably handicapped is more of a distinguishing feature for a criminal than a beard and somewhat floppy hair.

“I did something kind of bad Iris,” He says.

“What did you do?” I say sternly. “Because if you cheated on me with someone other than Keira Knightley, PJ Harvey or President Michelle Obama I’m leaving you, none of that forgive and forget crap.”

“I didn’t cheat, no,” he says. I knew that of course, but it’s still a relief to hear.

“What’s up babe? You look troubled.” I dip my finger in the icing from the cake I made a couple of days ago and lick it off.

“I kind of went on a job interview today,” he says.

I’m confused by this for a couple of reasons, first of all I didn’t know he was even looking for another job, second of all, why would he look guilty about going on a job interview?

“Does Cisco know?” I say.

“He was offered a position with Smoak and Mirrors, and I know he really wants to take it. Our operation was a non-starter from the beginning. It keeps me out of the house too much and it doesn't pay nearly enough.”

“Okay, but what about you? Couldn’t you go work for this Smoak chick too?”

“This was never what I was going to do with my life Iris, I’m not the computer guy.”

“Yeah, I know, not that you aren’t good at what you do. But you're pretty good at everything.” I say. “So what’s the job?”

“Lab assistant at the CCPD.”

My eyebrows go up in surprise, Barry, working with cops? Granted I always thought he’d be good at that sort of thing, I just never thought he’d come to agree with me.

“Oh my god, Barry that’s like the perfect job for you. Why would you think I’d be pissed about that?”

“Well, and please keep in mind that I wasn’t trying to go behind your back, it’s just I know what you've said to me in the past about certain things you didn't want to know, about your family."

My brow creases in confusion. What kind of segue was that? A second ago we were talking about a job interview, now we're talking about my family? As if they exist aside from Barry.

"What are you trying to say Bear?"

He sets his crutches aside so he can get closer to me, Without the obstruction of the metal he gets solidly between my thighs, his hands rest on my hips, I can feel his weight slightly as he uses my body to hold himself steady. I love him this close, and I think he knows it.

"Your dad, your real dad, he's the captain. He's the one who did the interview."

I cross my arms across my chest and give him a questioning stare.

"Wait, how would you know something like that?"

"I didn't at first," He says. "I did my research on Joe, that's his name, Joe West, I did my research on him because I thought I could get a leg-up on the interview, but the more I found out the more it started to add up, same name, same face. I mean, if you were a middle aged man Joe West is pretty much who you'd look like.

"This is a big world Barry there could be plenty of Wests who look like me." Although Joe West is the name on my birth certificate, which is a pretty damn big coincidence.

"Yeah, but there's more, after I got curious I looked up his wife, Francine. Turns out they were separated right around the time you were born. And while they were apart she had a daughter that she gave up for adoption. I don't think she ever told him about it, not even after they got back together."

I can feel myself getting tense and flustered, but I try to rein it in as best as I can, keep my voice steady as I continue to ask questions.

"That means nothing, she could have had me with another guy, did you ever think of that?"

"Babe, listen--

"No, don't _babe_ me right now, how could you do this without talking to me?"

He looks shamed and sorry, just as he should.

"Because I was never going to tell you about the guy who denied you and didn't want to meet you, and just in case he turned out to be that guy, I wanted to know before I said anything."

"So what, you lied to me for my protection?" I say with a cutting edge of spite.

"Yes," He says firmly and simply. "It's still my job to protect you Iris, that will always be my job, I don't care if you resent it or not."

I don't know why, but just when he says it I think about that night Mr. Snart punched me in the face. I don't even picture how thoroughly Barry wailed on him, but how he took me away, took me to his foster home down the street. He undressed me and put me in his bed, and swore to me that even if nobody else ever loved me the way I deserved, he always would, that I could count on that completely. But he's wrong, he's dead wrong, because it's not his job to protect me, it's our job to protect each other. And it's our job to tell each other the truth. I scoot my body away from his, and he rests against the counter as I march away and sit on the end of the bed, my back turned to him.

"Iris," he sighs as he grabs his crutches and follows me. "Iris I'm sorry."

"I don't want to hear it right now Barry."

He's on the bed now too, his hands are on my shoulders. I should move away again, but I don't.

"He didn't try to deny anything. He believed me," Barry says. "That's why I'm telling you."

"Why would he believe some crazy white boy in an interview claiming to be his son-in-law?"

"He just did. I think maybe he knew his wife had been hiding something from him."

I look at him, and the way he looks back at me makes my heart squeeze, so wide-eyed and vulnerable, silently begging me not to be angry. It won't work.

But I can't deny that what Barry is saying isn't so strange. I must have had a father and a mother at some point, everyone does, and it's not out of line to believe that they'd be living in the same city as me all these years. But in spite of how much sense it makes I still can't quite wrap my head around it. Either the fatigue is catching up to me all at once, or I'm more upset than I thought, but I look away from Barry and lay my head down on the pillow.

"Babe," he says, touching my hip. "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"I never want you to leave me alone," I say, tears creeping into my voice. "I'm mad at you though."

"I know," he says. He lays down behind me and pulls me into his arms, and he stays wrapped around me until the timer goes off in the kitchen.

I have a lot to think about.

**Meanwhile, on Earth 1 The other Iris West considers a mission.**

I think he knows deep down that he can't fix this. Even if he finds who did this to me, he won't make me the same again, me or us. It's not going to stop him from trying, because Barry will do anything to try to make me okay.

The problem is he doesn't know what I went through when Mirror Master held me prisoner. He showed me the things that messed me up inside, made me doubt the one person I've always been able to count on, made me doubt myself, made me doubt reality. I don't know what's real now anymore, or who to trust. Barry's scared and helpless and I can't help him either. I can only really humor him for now, pretend like going to Earth three to follow a madman won't end badly. But I swallow my fear because I know it's not just about me. It's about her, who kind of is me, which is still confusing after all this time.

Barry finds me standing at the window. I'm looking out at the yard but not really processing it. I'm too busy worrying that this whole endeavor will end up being pointless. I know that this other Iris is supposed to be able to help us, and it's our duty to help her, but I'm not sure if we can even trust her. What if she's evil like Caitlin and Cisco are on Earth 2? She could already be working for Mirror Master for all we know. But the thing about Barry is that he loves every version of me (although not enough if that vision is to be believed), he'd probably even love the evil version. It's what got him in trouble on earth two the year before last.

I turn to face him and force a smile. I just wish that things could be the way they were, that I could look at Barry without seeing him with her; touching her, kissing her, whispering her name, "Fiona". My eyes squeeze shut almost involuntarily.

_"The future is just another alternate universe," Mirror Master had said to me. "That's how I can show you this, that's how I can tell you for sure just how replaceable you are to him. But if you stick with me, we can have everything Iris."_

Only it wasn't me that Mirror Master wanted, it was her, Earth three Iris, for reasons she may not even know yet.

"You don't have to do this with me," Barry says, yanking my attention back into the room. "I mean, I know things have been different lately, between us."

_Yeah, because you're going to cheat on me. I think to myself. I still can't understand it. Barry cheating on me makes no sense at all, and I know I shouldn't have believed the supervillain, but everything else he showed me was 100 percent accurate. In any case, I can't think about any of this now. We have to find my doppelganger, before Mirror Master does._

"I'm going with you," I say. "Who's she going to trust more than herself?"

He nods, and reaches out to take my hand. I think about pulling it away, but I don't. This is the time for us to stick together, even if we're destined to fall apart later.

_**Stay Tuned Folks!** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was probably confusing, but I promise it will all come together in the following chapters.


	4. Having A Father Is Weird

"Hi, I'm Iris" she says, looking in the mirror like she's looking at him. "It's very lovely to meet you."

"You've never said lovely a day in your life babe, he's going to know it."

She chucks her slipper at me and it hits me in the chest. I try not to laugh at her.

"This is your fault," she says. "a couple of days ago I was minding my own business, living my life, and now I have a dad and a brother to impress. Thanks, dick."

I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, I'm happy to be off my crutches for the time being. I like to feel strong when I hold her. When I gave her the rest of the details, about the brother, and the fact that the mom passed away a couple of years ago, I could tell she wanted to punch me. I wasn't trying to hurt her with all of it, I just needed her to be prepared. If she had told me she didn't want to meet them, I wouldn't have said another word about it, but I know her, I knew she wanted to. I've known for years.

We had our Wedding at the Justice of the peace, got our first tattoos right after (the iris and the berry) and road tripped to Coast City where we spent the whole next day at the pier. I made more money back then in not such a good way, but I got to give her the best damn wedding slash honeymoon I could have given her. The only thing missing from the wedding was her family. I could see it in her face every time she came across a kid with their parents. When you have to grow up in a hurry you're never quite whole all the way through.

"He's going to love you," I brush a bit of hair off of her shoulder and kiss her right beneath the ear. "Who wouldn't love you?"

She deflates visibly and I hold her a little tighter. "It's surprisingly difficult to love me Barry."

It makes me so goddamn sad when she starts talking like this. I was an asshole growing up, I still am, I understand why nobody wanted me, and my parents actually did want me before they were shot. It made no sense that nobody wanted Iris. Kind, beautiful, talented Iris. Abandoned, beaten, never loved or wanted. I proposed to her when we were 16 because I needed her to know just how much I wanted her, and when she said yes it was the sweetest thing I ever heard.

"It's the easiest thing in the world for me," I whisper against her ear, and I spin her around and tickle her sides, making her face light up with that smile I've been addicted to for as long as I can remember, making her voice ring with that beautiful laugh. "But then again I'm not a fucking idiot."

When she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me I know I've been forgiven fully. She's never mad at me for long.

"And you're still coming with me right?" she asks me again.

"Of course, the guy wouldn't give me a job you better believe I'm going to eat his food."

"I'm sorry baby," she says. "It's his loss."

"It's all right, I understand, I mean the proof is in the crutches."

"I still say he's an ableist."

"Which would be a problem if I were trying to make gimp porn, but this is the police."

"Are you sure _you're_ not an ableist?" she jokes, and I kiss her again.

"Well at least the kid likes my work, that's one thing to bond over," She says as she breaks the kiss. She has the mock-up of the new issue as a gift for the big-eared kid ready to go. 

I run some hot water and undress and climb in the tub, and she climbs in after me, situating herself on my lap and resting her head in the crook of my neck, her tits peek out over the water and I cover them with my hands. I love our bathtub, it's the best thing in the apartment because it fits both of us, although it helps that I'm skinny and she's tiny. She has a thing about being close, especially to me, she likes knowing I'm right there. She weaves her soapy fingers between mine and stays sort of quiet, just enjoying the moment. Her hair goes all the way black when it's wet, the dark blue disappears into the rest of it and it clings to my wet skin. At some point she turns her head to kiss me, and we stay kissing until the water cools and there's no time anymore.

She blow dries her hair and pulls it up into a neat ponytail, and puts on her nicest shirt and longest skirt. I pick my good jeans and a button down shirt that covers the half sleeve collage tattoo on my arm. I don't shave but she doesn't give me shit about it, she's happy enough that I'm coming, and father to impress or not, she likes me better scruffy.

I drive because I don't always get to, and she holds the covered tray of mocha cupcakes on her shaking lap. She'll be okay, it might not be tonight, but she will. She just doesn't know it yet.

"I know this is a cliche, but try to be yourself," I say. "And I promise I'll try really hard _not_ to be myself."

She laughs, takes my hand, and kisses the heel of my palm.

The house is on the good side of town and looks like something out of a Rockwell print, all it needs is a white picket fence for a little boy to drag a stick across. I immediately feel out of my element and I can tell Iris does too. She tries to be subtle about combing a few loose tendrils of hair over the multiple piercings in her ears and she buttons her shirt higher, even though it was buttoned plenty high to begin with.

We get out of the car, I ring the doorbell and we wait outside the door, she looks like she's a second away from changing her mind, I reach to the side of me to grab her free hand and I see some of the tension fall out of her shoulders.

It's the kid who answers the door. He's taller than he seemed in the picture, and he smiles in a way that looks a little nervous.

"I brought cupcakes," Iris says abruptly, her hand shakes under the covered tray as she hands them forward.

"Awesome," he says, looking genuinely delighted. "Chocolate's my favorite."

"They're mocha," she says.

"Even better," he says with a shrug. Iris smiles tightly. 

"Oh, and she brought this for you too," I say breaking the brief but awkward silence that follows. I hand him the book and his eyes light up.

"Oh man, I won the sibling jackpot," he says, flipping through it excitedly and Iris's smile starts to look a lot less forced. 

He lets us in and Iris finally stands face to face with the man as he enters from the kitchen. He looks different out of the precinct, it's not just the clothes, he has a less intimidating air about him, but that could have something to do with the daughter he's never met.

"Hi, I'm Iris," she says. Her voice quakes. 

He looks close to tears as he looks at his daughter for the first time, I understand completely.

"Iris," he says. "That's the name we were going to pick if we had a daughter."

"You did," Iris says. She's saying it all short like that because she's nervous and doesn't know what to say, not because he pissed her off, but he doesn't know that. He wants to apologize but I can tell he isn't used to it, isn't used to saying the wrong thing either. He just sort of turns his bottom lip in a little.

"Barry told me you like Pizza," Joe says, gesturing toward the dining room table. It's big and the finish is glossy. The room has that warm cardboard smell you get when you order from the good pizza places.

We sit around the table and eat pizza and somehow, after awhile, a conversation starts.

"So, you always wanted to make comic books?" Wally asks once Iris starts to look more comfortable.

"Um, no actually," Iris says. "I wanted to be a journalist, you know like AJ Jacobs, Jon Krakauer, Lois Lane. I wanted to travel the world and tell its stories. But second year in J-school they found out I had a knack for drawing, they put me on the political cartoon and the rest is history."

"That's what's up," Wally says. "I keep telling my friends to pick up Speed Freak, that it's the best comic around."

Iris smiles and looks flattered. Joe is quiet and she looks at him.

"It seems like you got your head on straight," Joe says, nodding slowly, sadly. "Too many kids who grow up in the system take it with them their whole lives."  
I keep praying that he doesn't get emotional on her, it'll freak her out, she needs this to go slow. She's already broken eye contact with him, focusing instead on the framed picture of the three of them on the wall; Joe, Wally and Francine. No Iris. She deserved to grow up here, she deserved to know them.

"Well, I had Barry," she finally says, reaching out for my hand, I gladly take it.

"Still, there's no... there's no excuse Iris," Joe says, his voice nearly shaking. "I should have been there. I should have been there every day. There's no excuse."

"Dad, it's okay," Wally says, clearly seeing how uncomfortable she's getting. "Relax, we're just getting to know each other here."

"You didn't know," Iris says. "I mean, my mom did. But she's gone now."

"She would have loved you," Joe says. "She was in a bad place back then, but she truly would have loved you. She was a writer too, short stories."

"Joe, listen," I say, squeezing Iris's hand. "We just wanted to come--

"I'm sorry," Iris says, standing up, nearly knocking the chair over. "This has been so nice, but I...

 _Don't cry baby,_ I beg her silently. I know it's coming anyway.

"I have to go," she continues, the tears escape and so does she, bolting out of the room before they can stop her.

"I'm really sorry," I say. "This is just a lot for her."

"Should we go after her?" Wally says.

"No, I wouldn't. She just needs time. But thank you for this."

I go out after her, she's standing on the front lawn, sobbing, and I take her into my arms.

"I'm sorry," she cries.

"It's okay," I tell her, rubbing her back up and down. "It's okay, you don't have to be sorry."

"It's just, that house," she says. "All of it. I just couldn't, I'm sorry."

"You did fine," I said. "That would take its toll on anyone. But I think they liked you."

"That's even worse," she says. "I don't know why, it just is."

I decide to take her home, and we don't talk anymore about it.

We lay facing each other on the bed once it's gotten late, our noses almost touching, I'm holding her wrist.

"I want to have kids with you Iris," I whisper to her.

"Right now?" she says, jokingly.

"Hell no," I say, making her laugh. "But one day I want to, a little girl. And we'll take her to soccer, and cheer so loud at her games we just embarrass the crap out of her."

She laughs through her tears and I thumb them away.

"We're going to love that kid so much Iris, she'll always know exactly who we are, she'll never have to wonder."

"Yeah," Iris says. "I want that too."

"Then let's do it, when we have more money, a bigger place. Let's have a kid."

Iris sticks her pinky out wordlessly, and I hook it with mine.

"They really were nice weren't they?" Iris says after a few passing silent moments.

"Yeah," I say "They were."

"Should I call them tomorrow?"

"Only if you want to," I say.

"I think I want to."

We scoot closer to each other, our pinkies still hooked. A promise that one day we'll have a family.

"You're my fucking home, Iris. You know that?"

She nods slowly and quietly.

"You're mine too."

And we fall asleep like that.  
****  
**Meanwhile, elsewhere on earth 3, Another Barry Allen thinks about destiny**

They're in love on this earth too. I could see it in the way he held her. I wondered what she was crying about on the lawn, but it's not like I was going to go up to her and ask. She probably doesn't even know about doppelgangers yet.

Aside from being in love they're different from us. This Iris has blue hair and a bunch of rings in her ear for one thing, and this Barry has a tattoo on his hand, I wonder if he has any more. They're so different from us but they still found each other. It's destiny, I've always known it. I hope that my Iris hasn't forgotten. I wish I knew what was going on in her head, how to talk to her. I've never not known how to talk to Iris, it's always been so easy. I wish she would just tell me what she saw. I've gone head to head with Mirror Master a few times myself, but I've never been stuck as long as she was. And I didn't know how to help her, she had to get herself out because I couldn't. Maybe she can't talk to me anymore because I failed her, I couldn't be her hero that time. But no, that's not Iris, Iris has always been able to save herself when I couldn't, it's one of the things I love most about her.

There's no sign of Mirror Master here yet, but I know he's coming for the Iris with the blue hair, the one that's supposed to be the key to restoring his power. She doesn't even know she's a mirror, she probably grew up thinking she just had a crazy imagination. Iris, my Iris, says we need to break it to her gently, because metahumans aren't supposed to exist here. A mirror isn't really a metahuman though, it's more like a type of energy that exists inside of her. Most mirrors go through their lives never knowing it, but she has to know, she has to know before it's too late.

"Barry," Iris says sleepily from the hotel bed, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm all right," I say. "Just thinking."

She gets up and comes to stand next to me.

"Me too," she says. "I wonder what she was so sad about."

"I don't know," I say. I take her hand and she doesn't pull it away. "But at least she had her Barry."

"Yeah," Iris says with a warm but uneasy smile.

"Babe I..." I trail off, not really knowing what I was trying to say. I grab her by the hips and move her closer, looking up at her from where I'm sitting. "Are we okay?"

She looks like she just wants everything to be better, but I still don't know why it's not. I rest my forehead on her stomach, her nightgown is silky and feels good against my fingers.

"You're my home Iris," I whisper. "No matter what happens okay?"

She touches my hair with one hand, and I can barely hear it when she says in a choked voice

"You're mine too."

**Stay tuned folks!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really debating whether or not to add that disability porn comment, but I just really feel like that's something this version of Barry would say, dude has no filter. So sorry in advance. Also sorry this chapter is in Barry's point of view instead of Iris, but the next chapter is actually more important to the budding father/daughter dynamic between her and Joe than this one was, also I like navigating a characters complicated emotions through the eyes of another character, it's a good skill to have as a writer and I hope I did an adequate job of it.


	5. In Love With Normal

Barry is still sleeping as I make breakfast to bring to the precinct, chicory coffee and frosted lemon poppy seed scones. He doesn't so much as stir at the smell, but he looks sweet when he sleeps, like a cat or something. I like it best when he dreams about happy things, I could just watch him for hours while he smiles into his pillow and babbles about nonsense.

I kiss him softly on the cheek to let him know I'm going, and he doesn't make a sound as he pulls me back into bed.

"Barry!" I giggle when he wraps his arms tight around me.

"Don't go, sleep longer," he murmurs groggily against my shoulder.

"I wanted to surprise Jo-- my dad at the precinct, you know, like an apology for running out last night."

"Can't you surprise him with lunch? Or like dinner or something" Barry says, peering out of one eye at the bedside clock, it's 815.

"You need your sleep, it's your day off. But I promise I'll be back soon." I kiss him again, on the mouth this time, and he cups the back of my head to keep me close, deepening the kiss. If I don't move away soon he'll start unbuttoning my blouse and _that_ I may not be able to resist so easily. 

"I gotta go," I repeat, finally breaking free, and he makes this adorably dejected face, like I've just taken his favorite video game away.

"Leave me a scone!" he calls after me as I go to gather my bullet thermos and the paper bag of still warm breakfast treats, I remove one and put it on a saucer for Barry, then I walk out of the door.

The nervousness starts up again as I make my way through the heavy glass doors of the CCPD. The memory of last night is still fresh in my mind. I picture Joe's face, so guilty and sad, looking at me like some lost, wounded thing. It wasn't his fault, he couldn't have known. Still, how different might my life have turned out with Joe West for a father? He seems like the kind of dad who takes his kids to ballgames, who taught them how to stand up to bullies, who gives good advice the way dads do. And it hadn't really hit home just how much I missed growing up until I was in his living room, with him and his kid who looked like he had it all figured out right out of high school. 

If he knew about my life up until now, would he be even sorrier? If he knew about how that Snart sonofabitch liked to get under the covers with me until the day I fought back and got a black eye for my effort, would Joe feel even more like he had failed me? 

I decide I won't talk about that stuff, it's in the past now. This is the present and I'm happy. And sadly, if it weren't for the fact that Francine gave me up and Joe never knew I existed, I may never have met Barry. I was seven and on my third foster home when I saw him the first time, flying a kite by himself in the backyard. I loved him instantly, like the way a mother loves her newborn, there was no explaining it, I just did. And he was an angry, volatile child. He was always shouting, making messes, getting into fights. I was the only person he never fought with, the only person he never yelled at. I asked him why that was one time, and he just shrugged and said

_"Because you're nice, other people aren't nice."_

The first time we kissed I was eleven and he had just turned twelve, and I didn't know back then that he'd be the only boy I'd ever kiss, let alone the only boy I'd ever want to kiss. I think maybe we came made for each other. I don't usually believe in destiny, but I think in some cases it has to be real. Me and Barry finding each other just felt like it was meant to happen, and I've never questioned it, even though knowing him meant not knowing Joe. Or maybe if me and Barry were always supposed to be together, we would have found a way, even if it meant I still got to have a dad. Maybe somewhere else I did get to know Joe West, to be raised by him, but got to keep Barry anyway. That's a really nice thought.

I'm here on what's probably one of the rare days the precinct isn't buzzing with activity, making me feel even more out of place, I imagine any random person who sees me with my blue hair, kohl smudged eyes, and black, intermittently sheer clothing will think I'm more criminal than cop. I wonder if that's what Joe thought when he first saw me. He told me I seemed like I had a good head on my shoulders, but he could have just been being nice. No parent actually wants a goth child, except maybe the ones who are goth themselves. Most parents dream of their kids growing up to be lawyers, or doctors or astronauts, and getting married at 25 and having a nice house and their own well-behaved, non-goth children. But I'm more than my clothes. I like old-fashioned things sometimes. I like to bake because I didn't have a mom either, and that always seemed like something nice, normal moms did. Barry once said that for someone with blue hair and fourteen piercings (ears, belly button, tongue) I was in love with normal, he didn't say it in a mean way, just like it was a fact. Maybe I am in love with normal, it's just always been sort of unrequited.

My breath catches when I get up to the receptionist's desk, there's a blonde, pretty woman sitting behind it, flipping through one of the three CSI textbooks on her desk. Her name tag says P. Spivot.

I clear my throat to get her attention and she frantically closes the book and looks up at me with a nervous smile.

"Please don't tell anyone you caught me studying, I've been reamed twice this week," she says in a near whisper, I assure her that her secret is safe. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Captain West," I say.

"Oh, do you have an appointment?" If Barry were in the same situation, he'd threaten to tell someone about the studying until she gave him a visitor's badge. But I'm the nice one, I hate that about myself sometimes.

"Um, no, I'm... I'm kind of his daughter." I say instead.

"Joe has a daughter?" she says, perplexed. She calls the captain _Joe_?

"As of a few days ago, yes."

"Wow, you know you do look like him," she says, studying my face.

"Yeah, that's what half his genes'll do."

"Well you just sit tight, let me see if I can get him on the phone." She dials and waits for a response, getting one after a few rings.

"Captain West this is Patty Spivot... no I'm not asking about the lab assistant job again, although if you have some time... right, of course not. Anyway, there's someone here for you... says she's your daughter?"

I wait a few agonizing seconds until she throws me a cute thumbs-up.

"Yes sir, I'll send her right up." She hangs up the phone. "Yeah you're good to go, just take this visitor's badge, it's the second floor, a guy up there will show you the way."

I take the badge, stick it on my blouse, thank her again and think once more about changing my mind. 

Joe is already standing when I enter his office, he's got a tie, a shirt with rolled up sleeves, and a holster on. He looks so much like one of my favorite characters in the Speed Freak books, a scientist named Ira, only Ira wears a lab coat and doesn't have a goatee. Maybe Ira can grow one. 

This is my father, this giant of a man with kind eyes and a stiff upper lip. I should have gotten to know him so much sooner, he should have walked me down the aisle.

"Iris," he says like he's still getting used to saying it.

"Da-- Joe, Hi," I stammer, I don't know what to call him yet. "I just wanted to apologize for running out last night, I mean you went to all that trouble--

"It was no trouble at all," he insists. "Me and Wally, we both loved having you, we just wish you could have stayed longer."

I give him an apologetic look.

"Please, sit," he gestures to his chair. I take a seat and he follows.

"I brought coffee," I say, passing the bullet thermos forward. "Oh, and scones."

"Stop, you did not?" He says with a big, friendly smile. It makes me smile back. "You're gonna get me fat kid, first those cupcakes, now this."

He takes the paper bag and looks inside, but his face immediately falls. I furrow my brow and try to take a subtle peek, hoping they didn't fall apart on the seven block walk over.

"These look delicious, smell delicious too, but I'm allergic to poppy seeds."

_Damn it._

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't--

"It's okay," he says, making a placating gesture. "How could you know? But I'll tell you what I will do, I will have a nice big cup of this coffee."

He screws off the top and pours it into his ccpd mug, then pours some in a blank white one he must reserve for visitors. He asks me how I take it, I say I like it black. I smile when he says he likes his black too. He hands me the mug.

"Cheers," He says lifting it.

"Cheers."

He takes a sip and tells me it's some of the best he's ever tasted, and this is nice, this doesn't hurt, this I can do.

**Meanwhile on earth 3, it's now or never**

Barry thinks he should be the one to go, I agree. He can pretend he's her Barry, and hope to God this doppelganger doesn't plant one on him this time. I agree, if I go up to her first she'll just freak out, think I'm some long lost twin or that she's in an episode of Orphan Black. She needs to be eased into the idea that a whole supernatural world exists, not like in her comics, but real.

I've been reading them cover to cover, the similarities are almost uncanny; A reporter named Violet, a Speedster cop named Brady, A doctor with Ice Powers named Cameron. The world she created in her comics is like a near perfect combination of the three worlds we know, and who knows how many others? The glimpses of these other worlds must come to her in dreams, random thoughts, nothing she would consider out of the ordinary, in fact, much of these stories are probably just her. 

But the fact is, if they'd been on each other's earths when the particle accelerator exploded she may have become Mirror Master instead, it has something to do with DNA and frequencies that I have yet to fully get my head around. I still don't know why earth 2 Barry wears glasses and my Barry doesn't, he'd look so cute with them. In any case, I'm not a mirror, but this Iris is. It's why Mirror Master wants to bring her back to our world, trap her to do his bidding, get him to where he can't go and let him see what he can't see. How he plans to do this I still don't know, all I know is that it's our responsibility to protect her.

She leaves the precinct at nearly ten, Barry wants to talk to her here, where Mirror Master won't show up, he has no powers on this earth, but he can still hurt her, badly if it'll get him what he wants.

I watch through the binoculars, making sure that nothing goes wrong, if it does I'm not far. They talk for a minute, she touches his face, probably wondering where his scruff from the night before went. They talk a little more. She looks like she's trying to convince him to do something, she does that thing where she squeezes his arm. I do that too. He's starting to look nervous. She has her arms around his neck now but he's going all stiff. 

Barry wouldn't cheat on me, I know that for sure, he gets uncomfortable when a girl who looks exactly like me only hotter and dirtier flirts with him, of course he wouldn't cheat on me. She doesn't kiss him, but they do start to walk hand in hand away from the precinct. He reaches into his pocket to discreetly dial his cell phone, something I taught him to do without his powers. The cell towers are different here, so Barry had to buy a burner phone for each of us when we landed. I get the call and answer low enough so he can feel the vibration but not loud enough for her to hear it.

"What's going on Bear?"

 _"wow Iris, I can't believe you want to take a walk to the lake,"_ Barry says awkwardly. I roll my eyes, smirk and hang up the phone, then I send him a text.

_first of all, act better, second, get her a coffee at the place next door. You can talk there doofus, I'll meet you after._

Send

**Stay tuned folks!**


	6. Always Running For The Thrill of It

When I wake up I dial Cait, I'm doing physical therapy today and I just feel like running. I want to be outside with the wind in my face. I want to see the city pass me by fast enough to blur. It's not every day that I actually feel well enough, but Cait's going to take some convincing. 

She answers after a few rings. "Hey Barry, we still on for 11?"

"Yeah, " I say. "I want to run today."

"Umm okay, well the treadmill-

"Not the treadmill," I say. I look out my window at the city. It's so perfectly sunny.

"Barry, come on we've talked about this."

"And now we're talking about it again. Bring your bike."

She breathes a low sigh on the other end. She's just being overprotective, there are guys like me who run marathons and climb rocks and shit, surely I can handle four miles. If Iris were here she'd be happy that I feel up to it, she's the one who forced all of those pamphlets on me in those first months "Living Normally with MS," "Stories of Triumph from the Multiple Sclerosis Foundation," "50 reasons Why You're not Totally Fucked," okay that last one I made up, but the real title was too corny. I didn't want to admit it, but those damn things actually made me feel better, not even because of what was in them, but because I knew my wife would do anything to keep me from feeling sorry for myself. 

She isn't home yet. I'm not worried or anything, the fact that she's not back probably just means things are going well with Joe.

"What do you say Cait?" I continue.

"Okay," she says. "I guess a few laps around the park won't hurt."

I hang up and cross the room to grab my running shoes.

I know it's probably weird to be friends with your physical therapist, but her and Iris hit it off pretty immediately, and any friend of hers is all but certain to become a friend of mine. Besides, Caitlin's cool. Well, cool probably isn't the best word for it. She kind of has this twitchy way about her, like she thinks too damn much about everything and really wishes she could turn it off. It's why she's such a fun drunk.

She comes over about half an hour later in a fitted sweat suit and a baseball hat with her ponytail pulled through the back. By now my good mood has dimmed a little. I sent Iris three text messages and she has yet to answer any of them.

"Hey Barry," Cait says. "You ready?"

"Yeah, I'm just going to give Iris a call, she's not answering my texts," I dial and wait for her to pick up. When she doesn't I feel a slight twinge of the worry that had evaded me before.

"Hey babe," I say after the beep. "Me and Cait are doing physical therapy, we'll probably be back in an hour or so. Anyway, I guess things are going well with Joe so when we meet up back here later I want to hear all about it okay? I love you, bye."

I press end and nod swiftly toward the door, ready to attack the pavement.

****

"So, how'd that date with whatshisface go?" I say through my slightly more labored breathing as I run alongside her bike.

"My date with _Harrison_ went just fine," she says.

"So are we ever going to get to meet this guy?"

"I love how you assume three good dates means I'm ready to show him off to all of my friends."

"What, are you worried we won't like him because he's old?" 

She throws me a cold glare that makes it immediately clear why Iris based the character of Ice Biotch on her.

"He's not that old," she says. "Besides, he's probably about the sexiest guy I've ever dated, I mean, he's at least tied with Ronnie."

"Rest in peace brother," I say, kissing my fingertips and holding them up to the sky. That makes her smile.

"Also, his daughter is the sweetest, we're going out for brunch tomorrow."

"You're having brunch with his kid and you can't introduce us? What are you ashamed of us or something?"

"Oh Barry, you know I'm ashamed of you," she jokes. "But in all seriousness, if brunch and date number four go well, then we'll talk."

"I'm going to hold you to that," I start to sprint ahead of her.

"Barry, slow down!" she calls after me.

"Nope, you speed up!"

When I get back from my run I feel like a trillion dollars, like I could have flown back home if I wanted to. I almost feel normal actually, like I did the first time I ran a four minute mile and decided maybe getting into sports wasn't the worst thing. We do some stretches, I promise Cait that I'll soak my muscles and we go our separate ways.  
I hope Iris is home, the way I feel right now there's no way I'm not fucking her stupid at least three times. But I get to the door and somehow I just know there's no one on the other side of it. I let myself in to confirm my suspicion, and my heart sinks at the empty apartment. I check my phone to see if she's texted or called, no such luck. I consider calling the precinct to talk to Joe. I decide not to. She'll be back, no need to get paranoid now.

It takes about ten minutes for me to change my mind about calling Joe. Some chick named Patty who talks like somebody's getting ready to shoot her picks up and she connects me to my father in law, that's still weird to say.

"Hey Barry," he says cheerfully, more cheerfully than I've ever heard him, although I guess this is only the third time we've talked.

"Hey Joe, um, did Iris leave yet?"

"Yeah she left about two hours ago, why?"

 _Two hours?_ fuck.

"Um, no reason, thanks," I say, hanging up before he can get another word out.

I don't know why I'm freaking out so much, it's not like Iris has never come home late before. She knows I had physical therapy today, she probably figured she could get herself lost in the farmer's market. Maybe she'll make some of that bruschetta when she gets home. That must be it. But that doesn't explain why she isn't picking up her phone. My heart is starting to pound and I'm pacing now. I don't like being worried about her, I don't like thinking for even a split second that she might be in trouble. 

"Baby where are you?" I say out loud. I need to relax, she'll be back. She might have lost her phone, it wouldn't be the first time, granted the last time she did she used someone else's phone to call me and let me know she'd lost it. She doesn't do this, she doesn't disappear. Something's wrong and I hate it.

I hear a knock on the door a few minutes later and dart up a little too quickly. When I answer it I let out the biggest sigh of relief I can manage. She must have gotten her hair done, that's what must have taken so long, she changes her hair about four times a year. Right now it's black with golden brown highlights, it's a different look for her, definitely. Actually she looks different from head to toe. Her eyes aren't rimmed in black, her clothes have been traded in for fitted jeans, a thin white t-shirt with cut-outs on the shoulders, and a green military vest. She looks troubled, like something horrible must have happened.

"Iris, babe are you okay?" I say, taking her hand and pulling her inside.

"Barry," she says softly. She looks like she wants to hug me tight and never let go. I decide not to wait for it. I back her gently against the wall and kiss her like it's been years, but she doesn't kiss me back, she presses her hands against my chest like she's trying to get me off of her, so I oblige and take a step back.

"Iris wha-" then I see it, her shirt is just low-cut enough. My blood nearly freezes as I thumb the material of her shirt down, only to see that the skin underneath is bare. No tattoo. 

I look at her angrily and she looks up at me like she can explain everything. I don't give her a chance before I ask, "Who the fuck are you?" 

**Two hours before, Barry Allen of Earth One tries to warn Iris West of Earth Three.**

I see why he loves her, the other me. She's so much like my Iris, kind and beautiful. She may not be as tough, she has this air of fragility that mine doesn't have, but I can see why he loves her.

It's hard to pretend to be him, I have no idea what he's like, but so far aside from having to fake reschedule a physical therapy appointment I was apparently supposed to go to I'm doing all right (why does he need physical therapy? I wonder). I'm even managing to keep my tattooless hand hidden. 

"So," she says, stirring her iced tea. "How about a movie today? I know you've been wanting to see that new Bernie Sanders joint."

"Wait, Bernie Sanders is in a movie?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"He's only your favorite director, jeez Bear what's the matter with you today?"

"Um, nothing, nothing's the matter," I say.

"Did you hit the bong before you came or something?"

"What? No, I would never, I mean a few times in college but that's it."

"That's funny baby," she says, and takes a sip of her tea.

I know my Iris can still hear me on the phone, and she's probably about ready to wring my neck. Maybe I should just tell her. No matter how long I wait other Iris is going to have a hard time processing this. Besides, being on another earth is kind of like being on drugs, it's easy to make a tragic mistake if I'm not careful, even sometimes when I am.

"Iris, there actually is a reason I came down here," I say.

"What's that?"

"Well..." she puts another packet of sugar in her tea and I look across the street toward my Iris. She's still there, waiting, she gives me an encouraging nod and I focus my attention back toward my "date"

"Barry are you sure everything's okay?" she says.

"Actually, I can't say that I am," At my words her expression darkens.

"Are you in pain babe?" she says, like her Barry must be in pain a lot. What must have happened to him here?

"No, I'm okay," I say. "It's just, Iris I don't know how to say this, but you're in trouble."

She smiles, like I must be kidding. "Oh am I? Are you gonna punish me?"

My whole body flinches when she takes her shoe off and her foot is in my crotch all of a sudden. I move it off quickly, not wanting this to go any further, even though she looks like my girl I know she isn't, I'd do anything to protect her but touching her in that way is absolutely off limits.

"Iris, that's not what I mean," I say, and she finally starts to look concerned. I only have a moment to explain it to her, about Mirror Master, about what he wants from her. I know I sound crazy as I say it. Stuff like this is old news to me, it's anything but to her.

"Barry, maybe we should take you to the hospital," she says. "You know how you get confused sometimes." By the way she's looking at me it's fairly easy to see that her Barry has never been _this_ confused.

"That's the thing," I say "I'm not Barry Allen, not the one you know."

I put my hand on the table so she can see it, and she looks understandably freaked out at the sight of the missing tattoo.

"Who are you?" she says shakily.

But I don't get a chance to answer, the next thing I know, I can hear my Iris's voice in my pocket.

"Barry!" she cries into my cell phone. "You have to get out of there right now, you have to get her to the van."

"Iris," I say panicked, reaching for other Iris's hand. "You have to come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she snatches her hand away. "Who the hell are you and where is Barry?"

"Barry is safe," I say, following her up from the table. I wish I could use my powers here, that would prove to her that I'm telling the truth, or just freak her out more. "It's you he wants. There's someone back on our Earth who'll get me, my wife and Mirror Master back home, but until we find him you have to stay hid-  
She looks panicked all of a sudden, the whole cafe looks panicked, I can tell there's something behind me by the wide-eyed way she's staring. I turn, already knowing who I'll find.

"Hand over the girl, and everyone in here gets to live," he says.

"She's not going anywhere with you," I say, stepping in front of her.

He's a tall guy, skinny, worn out looking, but with something in his eyes that makes you feel on edge. The gun in his hand certainly isn't helping matters.

"Exactly what do you hope to accomplish here?" he says. "You're powerless Flash. This whole thing will go a lot smoother if you just hand over the girl."

I can hear tires squeak, I look outside to see my Iris hastily parking the van in front of the coffee shop, she jumps out, her own gun in hand, and I know that the following seconds are critical.

"Everybody out!" she yells shooting the gun in the air, they don't need much convincing, with her pointing it at Mirror Master now they flee quickly. And the precinct almost certainly heard the shot, cops will flood the place any second now and plenty of witnesses can vouch that she saved them. Only other Iris stays behind, clearly in shock, because all of a sudden there's a woman with a gun who looks just like her.

"What is happening?" She says, clinging hard to my shirt because while I'm not her Barry, I'm the closest thing here.

"This is a shame," Mirror Master says. "I was really hoping you'd be willing to go about this the easy way."

"Let us go quietly and it will be the easy way, for you," My Iris says, still pointing the gun.

"Maybe," he says with an unsettling chuckle. "The thing is I'm not really here."

When he vanishes in front of us everything about this mission changes in an instant. How do his powers work here and mine don't? How can we fight him like this?

"Iris, Hi," My Iris says, trying to force a smile in the frightened woman's direction. "I promise we'll explain everything but first you have to--

But it's already too late, because the next thing I see is my Iris's terrified face as something crashes through the wall behind us, and me and other Iris are both dragged away screaming.

**Stay tuned folks!**


	7. Ye of Little Faith

Sometimes I have these dreams, about things I can't explain, people I've never met and places I've never seen. These dreams always feel agonizingly real until I wake up and reality is all around me again. I know that doesn't sound so strange, lots of people dream fathomless dreams. The thing is, I've always had this strange sort of feeling, like maybe they aren't just dreams. 

Like right now, I don't feel like I'm dreaming at all, even though not long ago I was in a coffee house with a guy who looks exactly like my husband, then a bunch of crazy shit went down involving a woman who looks exactly like me firing a gun into the air, and a dude who can disappear at will. 

And now I'm trapped, and this freakin' guy, whoever he is, keeps slamming himself against the wall like an idiot.

"What are you doing?" I ask him, the guy who looks like Barry but isn't.

"I'm trying to phase through the mirror, if Mirror Master's powers work here than we must have been wrong, about metahuman abilities being cancelled out by Earth 3's frequency. It's the effect interdimensional travel has on the psyche," He points to his temple and whirls his finger around. "It makes everything weird up here."

"Okay, clearly this place has had quite the effect on _your_ psyche." I say. "Where the hell are we?"

It's cold and I wrap my arms around myself. Everything is black aside from just out of the wall he keeps trying to run through. It seems to be some sort of warehouse out there, abandoned and dilapidated, with leaking pipes and rusty beams barely holding things together.

"We're in a mirror" He says, like that's something that tends to happen.

He walks up to me, his arms extended in a comforting gesture. I should back away, but I don't as he rests his hands on my elbows. I want Barry, my Barry. I want to be where he is.

"I'm so sorry Iris, I was supposed to protect you but I didn't see this coming."

"Okay, I don't understand this, any of this. Who are you? Where is my husband?"

"He's safe, Mirror Master wants you, not him."

"Who?" He keeps saying that name. 

He sighs deeply, like he knows just how little I'm prepared to believe the story he's about to tell. He tried to explain it before, in the coffee house, but I was even less prepared to hear it then, he sounded like some sort of crazy Speed Freak superfan, if only there was such a person.

"There's a metahuman, that means...

"I know what a metahuman is," I say, growing impatient. "But they aren't real, they're just in stories... right?"

Although it was very hard disagreeing with what I saw at that coffee house, the guy just disappeared into thin air, that was quite a trick for a run-of-the-mill Joe.

"They may not be real here, but they are where I come from," he says.

"Where's that, Central City Psychiatric Hospital?" I joke, although the quaver in my voice betrays my attempt at humor.

"No, I'm from Earth one," He says. "I'm a metahuman too, a speedster, I--

"No, stop, this is insane," I say, my voice rising in pitch with frustration. "You're seriously going to stand here and tell me that Speed Freak is real?"

"Actually I'm the Flash," He says. "And Mirror Master, the guy that trapped us here, he wants you, he thinks that by trapping you in his mirror he can enhance his own abilities. It's because your mind is sort of like a mini portal between worlds, it just doesn't manifest as an active power because as of now there was no transforming event to unlock your capabilities, no particle accelerator explosion, no nuclear disaster, no other sort of experiment gone awry that would turn you from a human to a metahuman."

I can tell by the look on his face that he knows exactly how little I'm processing all of this. He looks frantic and worried, and like he really wishes I would just go with it. He sighs deeply and scrubs a hand over his face.

"My wife is your doppelganger," he explains. "On our honeymoon 18 months ago, mirror master kidnapped her because he thought she was you. And...

He trails off, looking like he might cry, like he's remembering something horrible.

"He made me think she was dead," he says, his voice breaking. "So I wouldn't try to save her. It's what he does, he can make you think things that aren't real. I didn't believe it for the longest time, I couldn't. But we just couldn't find her, anywhere."

"So he can trap people in mirrors, create mirror images of himself, and make you think things are happening that aren't? Why would someone like that even need more power?" I know how ridiculous it is that I'm even having this conversation, but I feel like the more I try to cooperate, the longer this guy will keep from unraveling. Crazy or not he's the only other person here, the only one who can possibly get us out of this mess, he needs to keep it together.

"He can also travel through the mirrors, even interdimensionally in very rare cases, like this one for example. But It's very easy to want more power when you have a lot of it," Barry says. "His abilities are strong but not infallible, Iris... my Iris, wouldn't have been able to escape if they were."

"Did she tell you how she did it?" I say.

"No," he says sadly. "She doesn't even know how she did it. When she found us she was confused and disoriented, the memories of what she went through have been solidifying little by little, but still. She just hasn't been the same. I thought that letting her come, letting her help save you, it would bring her back to herself. Back to me."

A tear spills over his bottom lashes and he swipes it away quickly.

"I just want to hold my wife and know that things are okay, you know?"

I don't know, me and my Barry have always been okay, even when we weren't, even after he got sick. This Barry in front of me, he looks so wounded right now I almost want to hug him. He's so much like my Barry; same sad, green eyes, same long, thin frame, same moles and freckles in exactly the same places. He has no tattoos and no stubble, and now that I'm really paying attention I remember that my Barry has a scar on his upper lip that this one doesn't have. Still, he's the same somehow, and it's difficult to keep my heart from aching for him when he's going on about his wife who looks just like me, and how things aren't okay with her.

"This guy, Mirror Master, is he going to kill you?" I ask, my voice soft.

"He's going to try," he says. "But I'm not exactly his main priority right now."

"Where do you think he is?" I look back and forth across the warehouse. There's no one here.

"Probably resting, using his powers this way, it takes a lot out of him. Another reason he wants you I'm guessing."

"Then that's it," I say. "We have to get out of here, we have to get back to my Barry, and your Iris."

His eyebrows raise, and his mouth turns up just slightly. I try to smile, try to make him believe that I have his back, although I suppose I do, I don't have much of a choice. I can't freak out about the fact that the world of my stories is apparently real, even if somewhat different than what I wrote. I have to ignore the suspicion that this is one big, trippy dream, or that my husband's twin is his evil one and he planned all of this. I have to believe this man, because that's the only thing I have right now.

**Elsewhere on Earth 3, Iris tries to gain the trust of not her Barry**

"Start talking," he says, his voice shaking with anger. I put my hands up, trying to calm him, but it doesn't seem to work. "Where is Iris, why do you look like her?"

I have to explain fast, because this guy looks unpredictable at best, he's like my Barry crossed with a time bomb. I start talking and the longer I do the crazier I know I must sound. By the time I get to the thing about his wife sort of being a latent metahuman I know I've lost him.

"All right, you're seriously cracked lady," he says, the blood rushing to his face. "I just talked to my father in law at the precinct you think if there had been some disappearing man who crashed through a coffee shop and kidnapped my wife in broad daylight he would have seemed a little more panicked?"

"Call him again, I'm sure whatever whammy Mirror Master put on cops at CCPD has worn off by now."

He furrows his brow in disbelief, but reaches into his back pocket for the phone anyway.

"You better not go anywhere," he says. He dials the correct buttons. While he waits for a response I take the time to do a quick scan of their apartment. It's small, about the size of my bedroom, but it's well loved. There are pictures of them everywhere, from the time they were kids to now. They knew each other as kids too, which is nice. There are pictures of school dances, days at the beach, amusement park outings, a wedding. They look so young in the picture, not even out of their teens, and she's wearing a short white dress and a leather motorcycle jacket, and he actually has on jeans. Granted they're nice jeans, and they're paired with a pretty sharp blazer and button down, but still... jeans at a wedding. There's also a drafting table, a cozy kitchenette stocked with all manner of baking supplies, a well slept bed, and definitely more than one bong sitting out. But what I focus on the longest are the pair of crutches propped against the one exposed brick wall opposite from the fire escape window. They aren't the temporary kind of crutches either, they're sturdy forearm crutches decorated with band stickers, and they're too short to belong to Iris. There are also pill bottles lined up on the inn-table near the door; pain meds, steroids, immunosuppressants, all labeled _Barry Allen._ This Barry is different from mine in a few ways. I swallow hard.

"Hey, Spivot right, I--" his voice grabs my attention once again. I can faintly hear the frantic voice of Barry's Ex's Doppleganger on the other line, and the longer she talks the more Other Barry's face starts to fall. 

"Yeah, that sucks I hope everything gets resolved. Okay, thank you. No I understand, bye." he says in a faraway voice before pressing end. 

"Okay so a van may have crashed through the coffee house earlier but that doesn't prove that you're my wife's doppelganger from another dimension," he tells me.

"I don't expect it to, I--

I stop as his face twists in some awful way, and he lets out a sharp, quick moan.

"Are you all right?" I say, stepping toward him.

"Stop," he says, stopping me with one hand. "I'm fine."

He doesn't look fine, he looks like all of his bones are trying to change shape at once, but he takes a few deep breaths, stands up straight, and replaces the look of scorn and disbelief that he's been giving me since he saw the bare skin on my chest and realized I wasn't his Iris.

"What if I can prove it?" I say.

"That'll be entertaining," he says, his voice still slightly strained.

"You have a birthmark on your inner thigh in the shape of a half moon," I say. He looks somewhat taken aback, but not entirely convinced.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I'm married to your doppelganger, the other Barry."

His face starts to soften, as if he's considering that it might be true, but before long his expression goes back.

"That proves nothing, how do I know you're not just some crazy stalker who scopes me out with binoculars or something?"

Technically I did spy on him with binoculars, but that's beside the point. We don't have much time for this, I need to find my Barry and his Iris before it's too late. The truth is, I don't need him. If I'm going to save them, I may have to work alone.

"Okay, look, this is getting us nowhere," I say in frustration. "Just tell me where I can find a good hacker and I'll be out of your hair, hand to God."

"Why?"

"Because I put a homing device on Barry in case this happened, but the equipment I need to track it is in the van Mirror Master stole from us, it's all earth 3 technology but I still need someone who can hack into it. Can you help me or not?"

"Wow," he says in nearly a whisper, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. "You really believe all of this don't you?"

"I believe it because it's true," I say. "Do you love your wife, Barry?"

"That's a fucking stupid question."

"Don't be a smartass, do you love her?"

"Yes, of course I love her."

"Then help me find her, just point me in the right direction here because I'm flying blind Barry."

Does he trust me? I feel like somehow he does, even though he clearly doesn't want to trust me. I wouldn't want to trust me either. But looking at him now, I get why he does, because I somehow care for this stranger more than I really understand. Surely he must have the same inexplicable belief in me, somewhere inside. He just needs one more push, I see the picture of him and Cisco stuck in the French bulletin board by the door, and I know exactly what to say.

"Is Cisco a hacker here too?" I say, looking at the board.

I must have finally rendered him speechless, because he all he can manage is to press his hand over his mouth and nod stiffly.

"Then you have to tell me where to find him," I say.

He runs his hand over his close-cut hair and exhales sharply.

"What happens if this doesn't work, what happens to Iris?"

"It'll work," I assure him.

After a few more moments, which I guess he uses to make one more attempt to wake himself up from whatever crazy dream he must think he's having, he grabs his coat and keys.

"I'll drive," he says. "Don't tell Iris."

**Stay tuned folks!**


	8. Mirrors Never Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I wrote earth 3 as being a place where metahumans don't exist, but that was before I knew that the shows version of Jay Garrick came from there, so this story is officially AU as opposed to a near futurefic. But what fanfic isn't an alternate universe fic to some extent? Right?

I need her back, right now. I don't know what to believe, this crazy ass story about a metahuman stealing her, and doppelgangers and mirrors and shit, or my always reliable common sense. But I know that I need her back, and right now the only person who seems to even realize that something is wrong is sitting next to me. She looks so much like Iris is insane, even her voice is the same. It should make me feel better, but it doesn't. She isn't my Iris. I need _my_ Iris.

"We need to talk to Joe West," I say, cutting through the silence that's persisted since we got into the car.

"My-- I mean sorry, _her_ father?" She says, and how would she even know who I was talking about if she weren't telling the truth? Unless maybe she really has been spying on us this whole time. But what she would have to gain from that I don't know. She has to be telling the truth.

"He's a cop, he can help," I explain. It physically pains me to say it, but if it means getting my girl back I can trust a cop. Besides, Joe's one of the good ones, at least I hope so.

"He's a cop on our earth too," she says. "Really good one."

Somehow that's actually comforting. 

I remember the first time I ever really worried about Iris. The first time I knew that I would do whatever I could to keep her from hurting. We were living apart for the first time in four years because I pissed off old man Snart one too many times, but due to me having a good social worker at the time, we were still close. I missed it though, her always being there. I missed waking up to feel the extra weight in my bed. She'd do that sometimes, lay herself down next to me, on top of the covers with her knees pulled up to her chest since it got cold in my room. 

I'd have to be real careful not to wake her up when I pulled the blanket from under her, like trying to yank off a tablecloth without disrupting the wine glasses stacked on it. And I'd lay the covers over her and we'd just sleep. It was innocent back then, just a lonely little girl seeking comfort with the last boy she should have. I wanted to be that for her though, I wanted to be everything she thought I was. So when a few months passed by with us in different homes, and I found her in my bed one night, I was almost happy. It didn't dawn on me right away that the fact she'd sneaked out of the house in the middle of the night, walked the few blocks to my home, and climbed through my window, might have been a cry for help. It took noticing the subtle bruise around her wrist to realize that she wasn't just missing me, that she was scared.

I tried everything to get her out of that house, I talked to every social worker I knew, the school shrink, everyone. Nobody wanted to help. They all said she needed to come forward herself. But that was stupid as fuck. If she was afraid of the guy then why the hell would she turn him in? And I didn't want to consider it at the time, but a big part of her not wanting to talk to anyone had to do with me, with her not wanting to leave me. We'd gotten lucky the first time. If she left Snart's place too she'd probably end up in Starling or someplace worse and farther away. Especially since her own social worker was a fucking idiot.

All I could do at the end of the day was leave my window unlocked for her. She showed up more and more, after awhile she'd get under the covers herself and snuggle into me. After an even longer while we'd find ourselves kissing, or taking off our shirts so we could be skin to skin. We'd never talk, we didn't have to. 

"Barry?" Not Iris says, her hand on my shoulder. I don't mind it. "Are you all right?"

I don't answer.

"Is that another stupid question?" She continues.

"No," I finally say, trying to force a smile that almost certainly doesn't look like one. "I'll be okay as long as you can tell me she'll be okay. I mean, you save people right? You and your Barry, that's what you do?"

"That's what he does, and he's amazing at it, he just needs some support every once in awhile."

I feel weirdly jealous of this other Barry. How is it that the universe or whatever, chose him to have superpowers and not me? Maybe he's just a better person. Maybe he never sold designer pot and oxycontin to bored housewives. Maybe he never cussed out his high school principal. Maybe he never lit a shed on fire to get back at some asshole who groped his girlfriend on a schoolbus and called her the C-word when she bitched him out for it. Maybe he deserves powers and I deserve fucking multiple sclerosis. Still, I've been good haven't I? For at least the last few years. I'm this close to graduating college, I help old ladies carry up their groceries sometimes, I always tip well on the few occasions we go out. I'm not the same bad kid I used to be.

"Barry watch out!" Not Iris says as a truck nearly cuts me off. I roll down the window quickly.

"HEY WHY DON'T YOU SHOVE THAT PHONE UP YOUR ASS YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKER!!" I yell. Not Iris looks equal parts mortified and amused.

Okay, maybe I'm still that kid just a little bit.

We get to the precinct in good time. The coffee house next door is all surrounded in crime scene tape and baffled looking officers. That's how my Iris was kidnapped, the asshole could have hit her with his car.

We run into the precinct as soon as we find a place to park. My legs tingle and my back hurts, but I ignore it. 

"We need to talk to Captain west," I ask the girl at the receptionist's desk, the high strung one. 

"Joe's kid right?" she says. "Wow, you look great."

She does look great, not better or worse, just different, but now is hardly the time.

"We need to talk to Captain West please," I say again, more firmly.

"I'm sorry he's very busy, can you--

"Listen, somebody very close to him has been kidnapped and I know that he wouldn't appreciate being kept in the dark about it. Whatever he's doing I'm sure it can wait, especially since the reason he's busy right now is the same reason this person was kidnapped." I didn't say who it was that got taken, I couldn't even begin to explain that.

"Ms. Spivot... Patty," Not Iris said, leaning in. "You seem like a very smart and competent woman, and I'm sure with that comes a natural ability to read people. Are we making this up or not?"

They lock eyes for a few silent moments, and it takes Patty just a few more seconds to get Joe on the phone.

**Elsewhere on Earth 3, Barry Allen begins to lose touch with reality.**

Where the hell am I? I knew where I was before, right? This is new, this not knowing. I feel like I'm nowhere, in a dream or something, only I can't wake up. Iris is here, Iris with blue hair and black fingernails. She's calling out to me but I can't hear her. It's like I'm underwater. 

"Iris!" I try to call back, but nothing happens, I can't hear my own voice. I try to touch my hands but it's like they're liquid too. Am I on drugs? I don't take drugs but it feels a whole lot like I'm on them.

Iris with the blue hair disappears before I can try calling out to her again. It's just me, alone, wherever I am. It takes a while, and i don't know how long, for me to feel something again, someone's hand on my shoulder. It's a soft, warm and familiar hand, a hand that's touched me before.

I turn around to face her. My God she is so beautiful, she's beautiful in a way that still surprises me after 18 years. She's wearing a long white slip, and I can see the outline of her breasts, her nipples pressing against the thin fabric.

"Iris," I say, and I can hear my own voice this time.

"Barry," she whispers, her voice so soft and sweet like always. She touches my cheek with one hand, and suddenly I'm not so scared anymore. "Kiss me Barry."

She doesn't even have to ask. I love kissing her, it's my favorite thing in the world, so I do. Even knowing that things aren't quite right here, that things aren't quite _here_ here, I kiss her, and it feels like home. I suck her bottom lip, opening her mouth to mine, and my tongue finds hers. We kiss like this for I don't know how long, and I find myself roaming, kissing her cheek, her forehead, the fast pulse of her neck and the soft swell of her barely clad breasts. Her breath quickens as I kiss her, her heart races against my heart, her fingers grab at my hair. It's okay, we're okay. I don't know how we ever weren't

When I pull away, what feels like hours later, I already know that something is wrong before I open my eyes again. Her skin feels different, her hair feels different, her kiss feels different. Not bad, just different, different in a way that worries me, different in a way that I remember but don't want to. I open my eyes to see gray ones looking back into mine. My whole body flinches hard. Where did she go, why is someone else here now?

"What's wrong Barry?" Fiona says. "Not who you expected?"

"Fiona," I say, almost a whisper. It had to be Fiona. Surely I didn't expect for everything to be okay again once Iris turned up alive, surely I didn't think I could get away with what happened. Iris doesn't know, but she will, it's only a matter of time.

"You know I really liked you Barry," Fiona says, shaking her head, making her red curls bounce around her shoulders. "So I sat there and took it every time you got into how much you missed your wife. You know you did that on our first date right? You talked about her so much I thought she was sitting next to me half the night."

The blackness starts to fill in, and I'm not nowhere anymore. I'm in Fiona's apartment. A cute place with baby blue wallpaper and a comfy striped couch, she's sitting on it now, her legs crossed, and she's looking at me like I'm the worst bastard who ever lived.

"But I was willing to give you a chance anyway. She'd been gone what? a year and some change before you decided to dip your feet in the dating pool again? That was just plain noble, what girl wouldn't want a guy like that? Someone she could make it all better for. I actually thought that maybe one day I'd be the one you couldn't live without. How stupid was I?"

"Fiona, I'm sorry," I say, and I am, I'm sorry for hurting her, for dropping what we had so quickly the second I found out Iris was alive. But what I'm most sorry for is losing faith, that Iris would find her way back home to me, that I could count on her the way I always could. So many people encouraged me to date again, to find happiness again. And I knew that Iris herself would have wanted me to move on, that's just the sort of woman she always was. Above all things she wanted me to be happy, and loved, even if it couldn't be with her. So I went out with Fiona, a sweet woman who worked at the flower shop. She was beautiful, and patient and always understanding of how much I still missed Iris. After awhile it got to be less difficult, going on dates, long talks on the phone, kissing, and eventually sleeping with someone else. It never felt totally right, but after awhile it was sort of nice, looking forward and seeing someone other than a sad old man who never learned to love again.

But Iris wasn't dead, she was alive, and when she came to me one night, confused, soaked with rain, and heartbreakingly afraid, there was nothing to do but hold her, to sob furiously into her wet hair and tell her that it was okay, that she was safe and home and that everything would be okay. The whole time, I'd never stopped loving her, never stopped wishing for her, I'd just learned how to quiet those thoughts, until she came to me and I heard them louder than ever.

"Are there two more useless words in the English language than 'I'm sorry?'" Fiona says. 

I couldn't think of any right off the top of my head.

"You told me you loved me the day before you broke up with me, who does that?"

"I did love you," I say, and I did. We were together five months, and she made me laugh and made me feel less alone, of course I loved her, but that didn't change the fact that I would always be hopelessly _in love_ with someone else, that Iris always came first, no matter what.

" _Did,_ past tense, real nice Barry."

"Fiona, listen--

But before I can say anything more, everything shifts, like I'm in an etch a sketch that someone just shook, and I'm nowhere again.

"Fiona!" I cry out, needing to talk to her, needing to make it okay somehow. "Fiona!"

_"Who the hell is Fiona?"_

I turn around, and it's Iris again, Iris with the blue hair.

"What just happened?" I say.

"You where just standing in place talking to yourself for like fifteen minutes," she says. "Is that what's going to happen to me here?"

She's not so scared as she was before, I think deep down she realizes that she can't be, not in the mirror. Fear, anger, love, any strong emotion really, can take you someplace else. I need to stop being afraid myself, I need to stay.

"Not if we can help it," I say, feigning confidence. "We need another plan."

"Can't we just find a way to topple this thing over?" She says, pressing her hands against the surface of the mirror. "You know, break ourselves out?"

"No, if you break the mirror, you die," I explain.

So much for not scaring her.

"Listen, I know there's a way out," I say calmly, hoping her expression settles into one of hopeful caution like before. "If there wasn't Iris wouldn't have gotten out, we just need to--

_"Just need to what?"_

My blood chills as he saunters into the warehouse, Mirror Master, rested and ready for us. I swallow hard and take her hand. We'll make it through this. We have to.

**Stay tuned folks!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we're about three chapters away from the end. Thank you again for following, liking and commenting on this story.


	9. The Art of Win

I know he’s not my actual dad, still, I can’t help feeling exactly like I did the time I wrapped mine’s convertible around a telephone pole. He’s pretty much staring at me the same way my own dad did that night, in disbelief and slow simmering anger. It was one thing telling him that I wasn’t his daughter, nor a long lost twin, it was entirely another explaining where his real daughter went and why.

“Do you have any idea how busy I am right now?” he says in that low voice that’s even scarier than full-blown shouting. “And you come to me with this?”

“I swear to you that I’m not making this up,” I say. “Iris, _your_ Iris, has been kidnapped by a metahuman.”

“And you think because you changed your hair and clothes that I’m just going to believe this insanity?”

“Look at my ears,” I say, sweeping my hair back. He humors me. “Piercings don’t just close overnight.”

He looks momentarily perplexed, but unconvinced. Barry already told me that this version of Joe was unaware of the tattoo, which would have been far more convincing.

“You know, I really thought you and I were bonding, I thought we had a breakthrough, and now this,” Joe says.

“Look, Iris, maybe I was wrong, maybe we should just do this without him, he’s not going to believe us,” Barry says. But I know my dad, even if it’s not really him they have a helluva lot in common. His hair is a bit longer and curlier on top, which I like, and he’s a bit thinner, which I don’t, but for the most part, he’s Joe West. For one he isn’t quick to believe in the impossible, but I know he can be swayed, if there’s even the slightest chance that he’s wrong, he isn’t likely to take it, not unless he absolutely has to. There has to be another way. Too bad there were no witnesses in the coffeehouse to see Mirror Master take them, I’d gotten everyone else out before they could be put in any danger.

“Okay, what if I am making it up, what would I have to gain?” I say.

“I don’t know, we barely know each other.”

That almost hurts, what happened to this version of Iris that she didn’t grow up knowing her father?

“Listen, Joe,” I say, and it’s still super weird calling him that. “Say I am making it up, we go home, you go home, maybe we take some much needed time before speaking again but for the most part there’s no harm done.”

“And the alternative?” Joe says, his face a stone.

“You never see your daughter again,” I’m being dramatic, I’m not going to let anything else happen to them, but I need to convince him somehow. “Because I assure you that I’m not her.”

“Trust me,” Barry says, his voice breaking, Joe’s expression changes ever so slightly at the sound, from one of firm skepticism to one of slight concern. “She isn’t.”

“We’re going to a friend’s house to track my husband and your daughter from his computer, Barry can you write the address for him?”

Barry does what he’s told, and hands it to Joe.

“If you think there’s even the slightest chance that we’re telling the truth, you’ll come. I know you will, because I know you, I have one just like you at home.” I touch Barry’s elbow. “Come on Barry.”

And we leave without a word.

****

Cisco on the other hand, is a different story.

“So you mean to tell me that you’re not really Iris, the real Iris is being held hostage by a metahuman somewhere along with another Barry, and you need me to help you track them down?”

“That’s the gist, yes,” Barry says.

“That is so… awesome!”

“Really dick? It’s awesome that my wife’s been kidnapped?” Barry says.

“Sorry, no, of course not,” Cisco says. Combing his hair back with his fingers, it’s even longer than my Cisco’s, nearly to the center of his back, and he has a beard that I just might suggest my Cisco grows himself when I get back, it looks good on him. “It’s just, metahumans are real. I knew it, I freaking knew it.”

“Yeah, they’re real, and we need your help finding a very bad one,” I say. “Can you trace a Teller S7 homing device with your computer?”

“Done deal,” he says, he practically skips to his computer at the far corner of his apartment, even tinier than Barry’s and a good deal messier, with at least twice as many bongs sitting out. A few of them look like Cisco made them himself. They certainly like their MJ. Cisco’s eyes are already glassy and I can smell the skunk smell in the air. I don’t mind the smell really, I’ve just never had much use for smoking the stuff myself. I prefer to go through life with a clear head. The fact that he’s under the influence gives me pause, but it’s not like we have much of a choice but to trust him, and if he’s half as high functioning as Sara back home, then I’m in good hands.

Barry sits next to his friend, and I start to bounce anxiously on one leg. Cisco’s fingers fly over the keyboard, he seems every bit as skillfull at the computer as our Cisco, and I feel slightly better.

“Uh oh guys,” Cisco says, and I go right back to being anxious. “We may have a problem.”

“What, what problem?” Barry says frantically.

“The tracker is detected by surrounding cell towers, wherever he took them must be completely off the grid.”

My heart sinks. “It’s not off the grid,” I say. “He wouldn’t have had the time to get that far. We can’t track it because they’re in the mirror.”

“What the hell are we going to do?” Barry says in frustration.

“Hold on, don’t lose hope just yet,” Cisco says. “What about your van, he stole it right?”

“Yes,” I say, a light switch going off in my head. “But it isn’t registered, no plates.”

“You think it might have been lojacked?” Barry asks. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that, but I’ve been panicked all day, and I’m still not as sharp as I was before the mirror.

“Yeah, where did you get it exactly?” Cisco says. “Can you move a whole van into an alternate world? Because that would be seriously kickass.”

“No,” I say. “We paid off a seedy impound lot guy, it’s not exactly easy to rent a van when your driver’s license is from another earth. Turns out the IDs are really different here.”

“What impound lot?” Cisco says.

“Jack’s,” I tell him.

“Oh yeah, there’s a lojack on that thing for sure,” Cisco says, once again he starts to type furiously, and my hope is once again restored.

After a few uneasy minutes, Cisco throws his fist in the air in triumph. “Yes, I have the location placed at the old plastics factory on 7th.”

“These bad guys love their abandoned factories,” I say. “Let’s go.”

Barry gets up with some struggle, and I wonder if it wouldn’t be better to leave him behind, but I keep my worries to myself.

“I’m coming with you,” Cisco says.

“No man,” Barry says. “In case we don’t come back we need someone who knows where we are and what’s going on.”

“Wait what? In case you don’t come back?” Cisco says, wide-eyed. “No you can’t just not come back.”

“It’s just a precaution,” I say. “We’re going to win this thing, I know it.”

Cisco exhales sharply and gives an encouraging smile. “But I did help you right, so am I kind of like a superhero now?”

“You always were buddy,” Barry says, clapping him on the back. 

We dart out of the door quickly, but before we can get far, we see Joe West in the hallway, holstered and ready.

“We’ll take my car,” he says. “It’ll get us through traffic much faster.”

“You came,” I say, although somehow I knew he would.

"I just found out I have a daughter, I don't know her yet, but I love her, and if there's even a slight chance that she might be in trouble I won't risk her life because I have more than a few doubts," Joe says. “Now hurry up before my sanity returns.”

The ride is long and torturous, even with Joe practically flying in his cruiser, the siren flashing all the while. I have to win, I have to get my husband back. I have to get Other Barry his wife back. And I have to beat this guy. I have to take back who I was before I was stuck. I’ve been out of the mirror five days, five days spent in Star Labs, and now on Earth 3, without much in the way of company. The truth is I was afraid to leave, afraid to even turn on the television or have a conversation with anyone more than a few words long. I’m still afraid, because I don’t think I was gone a few days, I think I was gone for a while, maybe months. I’m not ready to face that yet, that I may have missed out on that much of my life. And being out of the Mirror is tricky, you never really know whether you’re in or out, or what’s real or what’s not. I’m tired of feeling like I can’t trust the world around me, like I can’t even trust my husband. I need to win.

**Meanwhile elsewhere on Earth 3. Barry Allen and Iris West face a formidable adversary.**

“Let us out of here you son of a bitch!” I say, pounding the mirror with my fist, I try not to hit it too hard. Barry told me what happens when it breaks.

“You’re the one,” the man says, the tall, crazy eyed man. “You’ve been inside a whole hour and you haven’t succumbed once. Nobody ever makes it that long.”

“She said let us out,” Barry says, seething. 

“You can leave any time you want Mr. Allen,” He says. “Or have you forgotten how to use that truly fantastic phasing ability of yours?”

“I’m not leaving without her,” He’s brave, and protective, just like someone else I know, too bad this asshole has been screwing with his head. “And I know you’ve been messing with my powers since we got here.”

“Which I think is pretty impressive. It hasn't exactly been easy,” Mirror Master gloats. “But next time be a little more prepared before you venture into another unknown world, you’re more vulnerable than you think.”

Barry pounds the mirror with his fist, then spins around in frustration, facing away from him. 

“Barry, Listen to me,” I say. “You have to focus, you have to be here, you’re used to fighting these guys, I’m not.”

“Wow,” Mirror Master says. “You haven’t needed a pep talk in two years, this really must be taking its toll.”

“Shut up tool,” I yell back at him.

“Don’t bother with him Iris,” Mirror Master says. “He’s useless. You on the other hand, you’re special. Let’s see just how special you are. Take me to Disneyworld.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I say.

“I said I want to go to Disneyworld, take me.”

“You’re insane,” I say.

“Am I?” All of a sudden his smug grin gets even smugger, and it’s like I can feel something shift behind me, something glow and move. I’m afraid to turn around, afraid of what I might see if I do. But Barry is already facing it, and the look on his face scares the crap out of me, because what the hell did I just do?

“Oh my God.” Barry whispers, grabbing my shoulder. And I turn around, and there it is. I try to walk toward it, through the gates leading to the happiest place on earth, but I find myself stuck. I can only see it, I can’t interact with it, but it’s there. Disneyworld, I made Disneyworld, but I couldn’t have. It was him, it must have been him. He’s tricking me somehow.

“See how easy it comes to you with my guidance?” Mirror Master says. He’s in the mirror now, in front of us, but I can’t touch him, I can’t reach further than a foot in front of me, he on the other hand, wanders freely, plucking a swirly lollypop from a vendor.

“You did this,” I seeth.

“No,” Barry says, a sad look in his eyes. “You did it.”

“He’s right,” Mirror Master says, setting the lollypop back.

“But I didn’t even try,” I say.

“You didn’t have to,” Barry says.

“This is insane, I refuse to believe that I made Disneyworld appear, I’m prepared to believe a lot after all that’s happened today, but not this."

“This isn’t fair,” Barry says, pounding the solid nothing separating us from the amusement park that suddenly sprang up from nowhere. “You can’t make her do these things then trap her here.”

“Does it look like I care about fair Mr. Allen?” He walks past us again, and I so wish I could reach far enough to wring his neck. I turn back around to see him back in the factory. “I want what you can do, I want to do it without being incapacitated for minutes, hours, even days at a time. Do you know how difficult it was for me to come here and still maintain my hold on your psyche? I must have aged five years in the past couple of days. But what happened just now? That didn't hurt at all, I feel better actually.”

“You can’t keep her here!” Barry shouts.

“Then try to stop me,” He says. 

There’s a look of rage on Barry's face that I don’t think I’ve even seen on my Barry before. A loud, blood freezing cry erupts from his lungs and he starts to vibrate, like really vibrate, to the point where the image of him in front on me is blurred. When he runs at the mirror again, I almost expect him to slip right through it, but he doesn’t, he can’t. Because if he does it even a little bit wrong, he’ll break the mirror, killing us both, so he stops himself.

“Whoa,” I say, impressed, even though he couldn’t get himself out, if anything I’m just as impressed by his restraint.

“You’re not going to win this,” Barry says. 

“You seem awfully sure,” Mirror Master says.

“That’s because I am,” And in a split second he really does look sure, almost disturbingly sure, and I see what he’s seeing another split second later. I see her, actually I see me, and my father, and my Barry, coming up behind the man who has us trapped. I try not to smile, to rely solely on my peripheral vision, if I look at them, I’ll give them away. She has a gun, so does my dad, my Barry doesn’t but his smile at the sight of me is enough to make me feel instantly safer. They’re dead silent as they creep into the warehouse and I try to remain cool, even though it's hard as hell not to call his name and tell him how much I love him for this, for everything.

“Guys like you don’t win,” Barry says, keeping him distracted. “You couldn’t keep my wife trapped, she outsmarted you.”

“And she can’t even remember how,” Mirror Master says. “Otherwise she would have told you. Face it Allen, you’re never going home. As soon as I can get this one to access the full extent of her abilities, I’ll make sure you never escape where we send you.”

I can see her more clearly now as she traipses slowly into my line of view, her face looks challenged, like she’s searching somewhere deep inside herself. She has to remember how she got out, if she doesn’t, we may very well be screwed. I can apparently control this place, but not by myself, not yet. We need her to remember.

“You’re not sending him anywhere,” Other Iris finally says, close enough finally to make their presence known. He turns to face them, and before he can point that stupid looking gun he used to trap us here --I don’t even know why he needs one, he must be a pretty crappy metahuman if his gun does that much of the work for him, maybe that’s another reason he wants me so bad-- my dad punches him, hard, and the gun goes skidding across the floor. Barry darts after it, and I can tell by the look on his face that his body is screaming in protest. But he grabs it while Iris and my dad point their guns at him.

Other Barry was right. We’re going to win this thing. Or at least they are, even if they kill him it won’t take care of the fact that we’re stuck here.  
Please remember Iris, you have to remember.

**Stay Tuned Folks!**


	10. A Happy Place

She’s come to rescue me, my Iris. I shouldn’t be surprised, she’s been rescuing me all of our lives. Watching her pointing that gun, with that relieved look in her eye at the sight of me, I fall in love, again and again. I want her to come here, to press her hand against mine through this glass, to tell me it’s okay, that we’re okay. Actually what I really want is out of here, so I can hold her for real. I’ll tell her everything, the bad and the good, because I can’t have anything between us anymore, I just can’t take it.

“Barry,” they say at the same time, my Iris and his Iris. I look at him, his face is red, there are tears in his eyes, he’s breathing hard, he looks unwell, but he keeps a steady hold on Mirror master’s gun.

“Are you all right baby?” Other Iris says. 

“Am _I_ all right?” he replies, forcing a smile. “Never been better.”

I can tell by the look on Mirror master’s face that he’s concentrating hard, trying to use his powers, but it’s no use, not with the way other Joe clocked him. And he was drained already, overconfidence notwithstanding, it’ll be a while before he can do much of anything. As Iris focuses the gun on him Joe cuffs one of his wrists with several metallic clicks, drags him over to a pipe and cuffs his other wrist, trapping him.

“You think I can’t get out of this?” Mirror master spits. “Just you wait. I’ll be free before you know it and you-

“God, shut up!” My Iris says. “Before I shoot you in cold blood right now. Trust me remorse isn’t something I’ve reserved for you. She slides the gun in her back waistband and meets me at the mirror, pressing her hand against mine.

“Babe, are you okay?” she says. It’s the first time she’s called me babe since she got back.

“I’m great now that you’re here,” I say. We touch foreheads through the glass, and God do I want to hold her.

“Is he okay?” I say, Glancing at other Barry.

“I don’t know,” Other Iris says. He’s doubled over, rubbing his back in circles with one hand, looking like he wants to get to her more than anything.

“You’re such an idiot Barry,” Other Iris says, tears in her eyes. “When the hell are you going to start taking care of yourself huh?”

“Iris I-

“No, I’ve been silent too long but I can’t anymore,” she says cutting. “You know I think you’re my hero right? You always have been, but this is too much, you’re in pain, you’re in pain all the time and I hate seeing you like this, I hate it.”

“Whoa, baby,” he says, struggling over to her. It takes him a moment but he makes it, and nearly collapses against the mirror. “What’s going on? Tell me.”

“You don’t deserve this,” she says. “I know you don’t think so, but you’re good, you’re so good Barry, you have this huge heart, and you’re brave and smart and just so good. And God I just want out of here.”

She pounds against the mirror with her fist again.

“We’re going to get you out,” he says. “I promise.”

“What are we going to do with this guy,” Joe says, his gun still fixed on his target.

“She can trap him,” My Iris says, Mirror Master looks like he wants to say something, but he looks a lot more like he doesn’t want to get shot. “She can use his gun to trap him, and we can bring him back to our earth but you guys need to get out first.”

“Iris,” I say. “You still can’t remember how you escaped can you?”

She looks so defeated, but also like she’s trying really hard not to look that way.

“Listen, I know you can do it okay,” I say. “I know you can think of it.”

“You don’t think I’ve been trying?” she says. “I’ve been turning my brain inside out, that whole time is just a blur. And I know why, you won’t tell me but you can’t honestly believe that I don’t know.”

Of course she knows, she’s not stupid.

“I was in there a really long time wasn’t I?” she says.

I swallow the sore lump in my throat, my words are almost a whisper. “Yes.”

“How long?”

“Iris-

“How long?” she repeats, raising her voice.

I don’t want to say it, I don’t want her to know. I just want her to be happy and feel safe. I want that for her more than I want it for myself. But we’re past that. She’s been to hell and back and there’s nothing I can do to change that, there’s nothing I can do to make it better.

“18 months,” I finally say. And she lets out a quick, choked sob. “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. I never wanted this to happen. He made me believe you were dead, and you have to know that I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to believe it.”

She swipes the tears from under her eyes and straightens up.

“It’s not the time,” she says. “I’m sorry I even brought it up.”

She turns around and begins to pace. I want her to come back to me, but I say nothing. I just watch her. She looks so angry, angrier than I’ve ever seen her, but not even at me, just at the world, at the bastard chained to the pipe that took 18 months of her life away. And before she can take the time to think better of it, she meets Mirror master where he stands, and punches him, hard.

“You sonofabitch!” She cries, and punches him again and again, over and over until her fists are wet with his blood and his eyes are shut.

“Iris, babe!”

“You took everything from me!” She wails “Everything.”

She’s going to kill him, if someone doesn’t intervene she’ll kill him, and I’m not so sure how much I want to stop her. Luckily Joe does it for me, wrapping his arms around her, calming her down.

“It’s all right kid,” he says. “It’s all right, he can’t hurt you anymore.”

She breaks free of him and collapses to the floor, sobbing. I hate him, I hate him more than I’ve ever hated any of these metahuman douche bags I’ve gone up against, because at least they only hurt me.  
I want to call out to her, but I feel something pulling me back, and I know that I’m going again. It’s seeing her cry, it fills me with something that pulls me away.

“Iris!” I cry out, and she looks at me. “I’m going.”

“Barry, no!” she says, running back up to meet me, she places her hands on the mirror, smearing it with his blood. She looks so helpless.

“I’ll be back, I promise,” I say. It’s almost black, she almost fades from view, and then it’s like a light switches on, her eyes go wide and a ghost of a smile reaches her lips.

“You have to find something!” she says, almost excitedly. “When you go, find something that shouldn’t be there! Find it Barry, it’s the only wa—

Before she can finish her sentence, she’s gone. 

I wake up next to Fiona, next to the woman who’s heart I broke because I couldn’t not. It’s her bedroom and she’s lying on her back next to me, looking up at the ceiling.

“You’re back,” she says, her voice emotionless. “Just when I thought I’d gotten rid of you.”

“Fiona,” I say. “I know there are no two words more useless than I’m sorry, but I am. I really am.”

“I don’t know why you’re wasting your breath,” she says. “I’m not even the real Fiona, this is the mirror remember, nothing’s real here. I mean, sure it’s a pretty good imitation of reality, but if you ever make it back it’s not like the real me is going to be aware of anything you say. So just save your apologies all right?”

It’s hard though, to leave things like this. But she’s right, I have to get back to my life, back to my Iris. I have to find something that doesn’t belong here. Well, technically I don’t belong here, but I don’t think that’s what she meant. I climb out from under the covers and start searching the room, frantically and messily. Knocking things over, flinging them to the floor. I’m happy I have more of a handle on my powers now, but it’s not enough to keep from messing things up.

“Hey, what the hell Barry?” Fiona says, climbing out of bed. “After everything that you did you come and wreck my bedroom?”

“You said it yourself,” I say, pawing through her bookshelf. “It’s not really your bedroom.”

“Still,” she says. “Dick move.”

I can’t listen to her right now, I have to do what Iris said, I have to find something that doesn’t belong here. The books, maybe the answer is in the books, I’ve checked everywhere else. Fiona’s favorite authors are Jennifer Weiner, Diana Gabaldon, and the Bronte Sisters. Everything checks out… almost.

I nearly don’t see it, it’s small and tucked away between _In her Shoes_ and _Dragonfly in Amber_. I pull it out, it’s tattered from how many times it’s been read, and there’s an inscription on the inside cover.

_Dear Barry, I know you don’t always like the same books I do, and that’s okay, but I think you’ll really like this one.  
Merry Christmas, from your best friend forever Iris._

The Christmas when we were both fourteen we decided to give each other one of our favorite books. I gave her _The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ She gave me _Their Eyes Were Watching God_. She loved _Hitchhikers Guide_ just like I knew she would if she gave it a chance, and I remember feeling completely humbled that her own favorite was one that I couldn’t understand, at least not until the third try. Now I hold it to my chest and wish myself back to her.

“Barry!” is the first thing I hear, bright and excited. I open my eyes, my head is in her lap and she’s smiling down at me. “You found it.”

“What worked for you?” I ask.

“ _Hitchhiker's Guide_ ” she says. “You?”

“ _Their Eyes Were Watching God._ ”

When she kisses me, I feel like I’m home again, even though I’m nowhere near it. But I can’t get too comfortable, can’t get too happy, because other Iris is still trapped.

“Listen,” I say, getting up and meeting her by the glass, we’re going to get you out okay?”

“How?” she says. “I can’t be taken remember?”

“No, but what you can do is even better, because you can control it,” I assure her. You have to do what you did before, you have to imagine a place. He can’t keep you out of it this time.”

“But how am I supposed to do that without him? Your crazy wife knocked him out, no offense.”

“None taken,” my Iris says. 

“Listen,” Barry chimes in, his voice still strained. “You don’t need that guy, you’re stronger than he is. He’s just some power hungry asshole who got beaten up by a girl, no offense.”'

“A little taken,” my Iris says.

“You can win this thing,” he says. “I know you can. Just focus okay, think of a happy place.”

“He’s right Iris,” I say. “You have more power than you think you do, you’re not at the mercy of the mirror, the mirror is at the mercy of you.”

“Okay, shut up. I’ll try it okay?” She says, nervous and flustered. She closes her eyes and starts to whisper to herself. “Happy place happy place happy place.”

We wait with bated breath, hoping like hell it works, that she can find something inside herself that will free her.

“Happy place happy place.”

It happens slow, the background starts to change, fill in. The longer she chants the more detailed it becomes. It’s a house, a warm and happy looking place. Actually it looks a little like Joe’s back on Earth one, only ever so slightly different. Before we know it she’s standing in the middle of it.

“Guys it’s not working,” she says, opening her eyes, but as soon as she sees where she is, her eyes light up. “Whoa.”

“See, we told you,” Barry says. 

“You imagined my house?” Joe says.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” she says. “I mean, it seemed like a really happy place.”

“And you’re welcome there any time,” He says. "It's your home too now"

“Okay, you guys can have a moment later,” Barry says. “Remember what she said, you have to find something that doesn’t belong.”

“How? I’ve only been here one time," she looks at me, miffed. "I thought you said I could control this thing, I wanted some place I’d know in and out.”

“Babe, I have to say this whole self-doubt thing is seriously unwarranted,” Barry says. “You’re a badass, deal with it.”

She smiles and rolls her eyes. “Okay, something that doesn’t belong,” She scans the room, a focused look in her eye. I’ve never been to this Joe’s house, so I couldn’t tell her one way or the other. She’s careful and methodical in her search, no speed powers to aid her.

“Wait a minute, she says, stopping in front of a picture. It looks like a page from a comic book, on it a guy who looks a lot like me is punching a girl who looks a lot like Killer frost. She picks it up from the wall.

“This is mine, this doesn’t belong here,” she says.

“Guess again,” says Joe. “It’s one of the pages from that mock-up you gave him. Wally was talking about getting it framed, he must have done it.”

She smiles proudly and puts it back. She circles the room again, and then stops at the inn table. There’s a gun there, sitting out, she picks it up and looks like she wants to do a celebratory dance.

“No way a cop would leave a gun sitting out,” she says. I breathe a sigh of relief as she, along with the living room disappears from the mirror, and suddenly she’s standing with us. She throws her arms around her Barry and holds him tight, just for a moment before she has to do what’s necessary.

“Make me proud,” her Barry says, giving her the mirror gun as he parts from her.

Joe unlocks the handcuffs and Mirror Master slumps over, still knocked out.

“Okay I got this,” she says, taking a deep breath and pointing it squarely at him, but when she pulls the trigger nothing happens.

“I thought you said I could use this,” she says.

“You can,” I say. “You’re the only one of us who can.”

She takes a deep breath and tries again, but before she can he snaps awake. Blinded by blood and disoriented, he lunges at her, but I won’t let him get the gun from her, I won’t let him take her, not again, not after everything. In his riled state, he’s fast, but I’m a whole lot faster. I knock him hard into the Mirror as her Barry pulls her back, stepping in front of her, protecting her even in his pained state. His instincts are strong.

“Iris now,” I say, I get out of the way, not wanting to end up back in there with him, and she pulls the trigger, this time achieving the desired effect, trapping him with the beam of light that emits from the gun and fuses him within the mirror.

“Wow!” she says giddily. “Are you freaking kidding me? That was amazing.”

Mirror Master pounds away at it from the inside, knowing full well it won’t do a thing.

“Lets get out of here before he finagles his way out of there,” Joe says. And I oblige, the mirror is big and heavy but I manage to get it out of the building and into the nearest cell, too fast to even notice the weight. Joe will release him to me later when it’s time to get him back to earth one, but until then I have to make sure the others are okay.

When I get back to the factory, I kiss my Iris properly.

“You saved me,” I say as I part from her.

“I had to,” she says. “I don’t work without you.”

We both look over at the couple who looks exactly like us, she’s holding him by the waist, helping him walk. I can’t help but think about how he grabbed the gun, keeping Mirror Master from getting it, or how he pulled her into him in case he got up again and attacked her. He can barely move but he can work through that enough to protect her. Other Iris was right, he is a hero, like her. I know there’s a way to help him, if he wants it. 

“Are you okay?” she says to him again.

“I’m fine now,” he says. "Let’s go home."

**Stay tuned folks!**


	11. Webb of Lilies

It’s going to be a lot to process, he warns me beforehand. “You should probably sit down,” he says. “I want you to know that it doesn’t change anything, you’re the love of my life and nothing and no one will ever make me forget that,” he says.

Then he tells me. 

I’d seen it with my own eyes in the mirror, Barry and Fiona, Fiona and Barry. The first time they did it Barry cried in the shower afterwards. I thought it was because he felt guilty. “I’m sorry Iris,” he said, although no one was there. Maybe he did feel guilty. But as much as it hurts me that he was with someone else, as much as I want to punch him in the face for it, and then go find Fiona Webb and drag her by her pretty red hair, I know that I won’t. What happened between them is exactly what I would have wanted if I’d actually died. I would have wanted him to be happy, even if it couldn't be with me. He probably wasn’t ready the first time, but after a while, it became easier, he became happier, he moved his wedding ring to his right hand, and I became angrier and angrier watching it. I’d assumed it was something that was going to happen, not something that already was, for a reason that wasn’t exactly his fault.

So I take a few deep breaths, and I tell him. “I’m not mad at you, I just need a little time to think, okay?”

I can tell he wants to protest, but he swallows the urge and nods sharply, and I leave him with a soft kiss on his cheek.

I take a long walk, just to think. I think about everything I missed over 18 long months, what new metahumans hit the scene, what new friendships formed, who’d been hurt, how dad and Wally coped with things. I still want my year and a half back, I want to wake up in our hotel room on the first night of our honeymoon and talk all about the future, about children and a dog and a cute little house, and growing old and having adventures together. I guess all of that can still happen, but it’s still hard for me to accept that so much of my life was taken, and I didn’t even get the consolation prize of miraculous speed powers like Barry when he woke from his coma. When I get back I’ll ask Barry to tell me everything, not just the Fiona stuff. I’m ready for it now.

I eventually find her through the window of her flower shop, busying herself with an arrangement in progress. It’s called Webb of Lilies, a cute name if I should say so. To be honest, I want her to be amazing, I want her to be so effortlessly charming that I don’t question at all why he’d want to be with her. If I’m going by looks alone, I can see it. She’s a girly girl, in a peacock feather printed dress and her hair done up in loose curls, she has a round face and deep dimples, and probably a cute laugh too. I push the door open, ringing the little sleigh bells on the handle.

“Sorry we’re closi—“ But she stops cold at the sight of me, the pair of shears in her hand land on the soft carpet, and I bend to retrieve them and set them on the counter.

“Thanks,” she squeaks.

“Hi Fiona,” I say with a weak smile.

“I— listen, whatever Barry told you.”

“I know,” I say. “I know everything.”

“Well,” she says, shifting her feet and tugging on a strand of her curly hair. “I’m really glad to see that you’re okay.”

She seems to mean it.

“I mean, I can’t imagine what you must have gone through in that prison camp,” she continues.

I guess he never got around to telling her he’s The Flash. The boy just doesn’t learn does he?

“Yeah, it was really hard,” I say. “But not as hard as it was to learn about you.”

“Well, if we’re being honest it wasn’t exactly easy to learn about you either,” she says. “All I ever wanted from Barry was for him to love me even half as much as he loved you. Sometimes when we were together it was wonderful, so fun and easy, but other times, it was like he was living with your ghost.”

“That wasn’t fair to you,” I say.

“I understood,” she says. “I know what it’s like, to miss someone like that. I mean, I’ve never lost a husband or anything, but about a year ago my best friend Katie was killed by a drunk driver. It took so long for me to stop seeing her face everywhere I went.”

Her voice starts to break, and I put a soft hand on her shoulder. “Hey, do you like coffee?”

We take a walk to Jitters, a short few blocks away. Apparently she’s been a customer for years but I don’t remember her from when I used to work there. It’s strange how people walk in and out of your life without you ever catching wind of it, people who end up being important. 

It starts to rain by the time we take our seats by the window, so we decide to take our time. We don’t talk about Barry, not only him anyway, we just talk. It isn’t perfect, there are long pauses here and there and she says what she perceives to be the wrong thing more than once, although I probably wouldn’t have noticed had she not apologized right after. But at around the second refill, I decide I like Fiona, and that she probably likes me too. She has something about her, a comforting presence, a kind, open face and a soft voice that just seems to get you no matter who you are or what you’ve done. I don’t see us ever becoming bffs, there’s just too much there to ever manage something like that, but I feel like we can coexist in peace. By the time the rain dies down it’s time to go, the sky is dark and cloudy and it’s gotten cold. I wish I had brought more than a light jacket but I didn’t expect to be away so long. Barry’s probably worried. 

“So, what’s next for Fiona Webb?” I ask in my best journalist voice as I walk her back to the shop.

“Well, this may come as a surprise but I actually have a date,” she says. “This Saturday.”

“Yeah?” I say.

“I know it’s kind of soon after Barry, but I’ve known this guy for years, I always thought there was something between us but we were always sort of unavailable. Now we aren’t, so I thought hey, why not go for it you know?”

“That’s great, really,” I say.

“What about you, what’s next for you?”

“Well, I return to picture News on Monday. As for Barry and I, it’ll probably take some time to get used to each other again. But we’ll get there."

“I think so too,” she says. “I mean I don’t really know what you’re like together, but I know he really loves you.”

“I really love him too,” I say. “There’s no turning it off.”

****  
Barry’s pacing in front of the door by the time I get back. The apartment is almost hospital clean, he must have tidied up up to take his mind off things. He probably didn’t even use his speed to do it.

“Iris, you’re here. Are you okay? Did you think?”

I shut the door behind me.

“You should have told me,” I say. “You should have told me sooner.”

“I wanted to,” he says. “But I didn’t know how. I’m sorry I’m so—

Before he can finish I walk up to him in two long strides and wrap my arms around his waist. I bury my face in his sweater, savoring his smell, the warmth of him, and I smile when he hugs me back tight.

“Lets go to bed,” I whisper.

We take things slow, we don’t sleep together the first night, but we do kiss. His mouth finds mine sleepily in the dark, and I’m not even sure if he’s aware of it, but I kiss him back, slowly and carefully, feeling the softness of his lips against my full ones. We drift off back to sleep and when we wake he’s wrapped around me like so many nights before.  
When I’m ready for more, I don’t tell him, I show him. I take his hand and lead him to our bedroom and I start to undo his buttons. He asks me if I’m sure and I press my finger to his lips. I’m sure. It was hard getting here, not knowing how to go all in again, but I realize now that he was right, nothing is different, I love him every bit as much as I did before I went away, and I need to be with him again that way. I get his shirt off and press my lips against a place right over his heart, and he drags his fine yet strong hands up my back. He tilts his head down to kiss me and whispers against my mouth.

“I missed you, I missed this.”

I missed him too, even when I had no idea how long I’d been gone, I knew it was far too long. I wanted him then too. When I escaped to him that night, my anger and confusion competed with my heavy desire to have my rain-soaked clothes peeled off, to be kissed all over my body, to take him inside of me until I knew for sure that I was home. I would have been with him that night and saved the questions for later had I not been bleeding from my bare feet, and shivering with cold and sobbing my eyes out, there was no way Barry was touching me that night, and the more hours passed, the more the thoughts of what I’d seen made me distance myself from him. I can’t do that anymore. I need us to be _us_ again, I need this.

He’s slow and methodical about getting me out of my top, and reaching around me to unhook my bra. I twist my fingers into his hair as his mouth finds my nipple, making me shiver.

“Lay me down Barry,” I sigh, and he obliges, taking me in his arms and laying me down on the pillows. He hovers over me, unbuttoning my pants and pressing the warmth of his open mouth on the smooth skin beneath my belly button. We’ve always loved the taste of each other, and I can tell that hasn’t changed at all for him once he gets me out of my panties. My heels dig into his back and my fingers grab at the pillow while he takes his time down there, building me up, making my toes curl and my heart race, but I want him inside, I need him inside.

“Barry,” I say, my voice breathy and sharp. “Come here, please.”

When he does I kiss him hard, tasting myself on his lips when he slides himself between my legs. I knew I missed it but I had no idea how much, his skin against my skin, his mouth damp and hot against the racing pulse of my neck, his hands everywhere, my Barry, how did I make it so long without him? Is that what he’s thinking too? 

After we finish we stare at each other across the pillows. My hand is under the sheet, my fingers dragging up and down his length. He’s still spent, we’re still slick with each other’s sweat. We both have work in less than six hours but I’m not sure if either of us are going to get any sleep tonight, too much lost time to make up for.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I don’t feel like I say it enough.”

“You say it plenty,” I say.

“Not enough. I love you.”

I giggle and bop him on the head with the pillow and he attacks, pouncing on top of me and tickling my sides, making me cackle.

“Uncle!” I cry. “Uncle!”

He kisses me again, quieting my laughter. “I missed that laugh,” he says.

“I missed laughing.”

His smile goes soft, and he combs my sweaty hair away from my face. “What do you say we play hooky tomorrow? Just spend all day in bed?”

“I think I missed enough work already,” although it’s hard to say no, spending all day in bed with Barry sounds tempting as hell.

“I’m sure your boss will understand,” he says. “He was happy to give you a few more days off before, besides, we never got to finish our honeymoon.”

That was true. I was still bitter about it too. I didn’t even get to see Athens beyond the airport and the hotel. We’d have to rectify that soon. But for now, playing hooky for one more day was a nice plan B.

“Okay, you convinced me,” I say.

“That was easy,” he teases.

“You say that now but I’m going to be tearing up my laptop for at least a few hours tomorrow, so make sure you’re out of my hair.”

“It’s cool,” he says, shrugging. He opens the nightstand and takes out the copy of _Their Eyes Were Watching God_ he always keeps there, and sets it on the nightstand to be read for like the fifteenth time.

“I knew you’d love that book,” I said.

And he takes my hand and kisses my fingers. “You know me so well.”

**The Final Chapter should be up in a few days, Stay Tuned Folks!**


	12. A Few Good Days

It’s going to be a good day, I can just tell. Do you ever wake up in the morning and know that getting out of bed is going to be the right decision? Well that’s how I feel right now. Only I can’t get up just yet, because Iris is straddling my lap, wearing my boxers and that lacy black bra that I like with the little pink bow in the center.

“Guess what?” she says as I rub the sleep from my eyes. “You’re graduating today.”

“I _am_ graduating today.” After years of all-nighters, insane text book prices, and stammering lectures from adjunct professors the same age as me, I’m finally getting my Masters. But that’s not why I’m waking up in such a good mood, to be honest I can’t really place it. It’s like something has shifted all of a sudden.

I should be depressed really. I didn’t walk for my Bachelor’s so I decided to go for the cap and gown this time, and the timing really couldn’t be worse because I’m right in the middle of a relapse. I’m going to be clomping across the stage on my crutches. I try not to think about it, I don’t want my rare positive attitude to leave as soon as it came.

“Come here,” I say in a low voice, my hands are on her hips and my thumbs slip beneath the waistband, grazing her skin. She lowers her body onto mine to kiss me, and my hands glide up her back to find the little clasp on her bra.

“You’re insatiable you know that?” she whispers against my lips as I skillfully undo it with one hand. The rest of my body might be next to useless right now, but my hands work as well as they ever did.

She has to be on top when I’m like this, and it’s okay, she doesn’t mind it. She likes doing most of the heavy lifting from time to time. And I love letting her. I can see all of her this way, I can touch her anywhere my hands can reach. The way she moves on top of me is like dancing. Her hair, streaked with deep purple these days, is like a whirlwind around her thin shoulders and small, gorgeous breasts. My body hurts but it’s like I don’t feel it anymore for as long as I’m inside of her, like she’s giving me her strength. I still don’t understand how I got this lucky, how out of all the bastards in the world, she chose me, for better or worse.

And I could have lost her, it still dawns on me from time to time how close she was to just not being here anymore. What would I do if she were gone? If I had to wake up every morning to a cold, empty space beside me? She’s like a vital organ, a piece of me that I would die without. I know that seems dramatic, but try being me and loving her, and tell me it doesn’t make all the sense in the world.

"You all right baby?" she says with labored breath as I let out a sharp groan and tears start to gather in my eyes. She slows on top of me.

"I'm okay," I promise. "Just please don't stop."

After we finish we bathe and dress. I wonder how long it will be before she has to start helping me get my clothes on. Today I can handle it myself with some struggle, but I still dread what ten years from now might look like.

I’m doing what Iris said back at the warehouse, I’m taking better care of myself. I don’t smoke anymore, including pot, although Iris still bakes me edibles from time to time to help me when I’m hurting. I’m also on a strict diet that Caitlin customized for me, and I run on the treadmill now, at a controlled speed and only for about 20 minutes at a time. It’s all been working pretty well, this is the only relapse I’ve had in nearly four months. But still, one day…

I can’t think about that sad shit now though, today is going to be a good day, in spite of the relapse, in spite of everything. I scored some extra tickets to the graduation so Joe and Wally could come along with Caitlin and Cisco, and we’re all going out for Italian afterward.

Joe really stepped up, I have to hand it to the guy. He and Iris have lunch together most days since she makes her own hours, and we both go over to his place for dinner a couple of times a week. Last time she taught him how to make paella, and afterwards we had IPA in the backyard, gathered around the fire pit and told each other stories. Turns out she likes having a dad, and we both couldn’t be more grateful that he likes having a daughter.

I still think about them sometimes, other Iris and other Barry. After they saved her we all went back to the apartment to decompress and get to know each other better. It turns out on that other Iris knew her dad from the day she was born, but her mom left when she was young, and reappeared a couple of years ago just to die on her. That must have been rough, and I know rough. But we didn’t only talk about the woe is me stuff, as it turns out other Iris also has a thing for Ryan Gosling, and they spent about half an hour being complete chicks about it.

_“Wait a minute, what do you mean Half Nelson is his band? where I come from that’s the movie he got an Oscar nomination for,” Other Iris said._

_“No shit?” My Iris said. “What I’d give to see that.”_

While they were bonding over Gosling other Barry kind of weirdly interrogated me about my condition, like he wanted to know everything, how old I was when I got it, how often I relapsed, how long they usually lasted, it was strange, although not that strange, maybe he was worried he would have gotten it too if he hadn’t gotten speedforced, maybe he still worried. Overall though he’s a nice guy, a bit of a dork, but nice. If he lived here we could definitely go to a game together or something.

I thought about getting graduation tickets for them too, but there were two big problems with that, for one, everyone I knew at that graduation would wonder why me and my girl suddenly had twin siblings I never talked about, two, we didn’t exactly know how to send invites interdimensionally.

Iris decided to keep mirror master’s gun, just in case she ever needs it, but I don’t think she will. Mirror Master was probably an evil sonofabitch for a reason. Besides, she’s happy with the way things are. The last three issues of Speed freak sold so well she’s starting to get phone calls from important guys in comics. The dudes that put out _The Sindicate_ books want her to do a six issue crossover arc, and she’s even doing her first panel at one of those big conventions this summer. We might actually be okay, even if it takes a while for me to find a better job.

The ceremony is boring, some guy who’s supposed to be a big deal in aerospace makes a speech, so does the valedictorian and student elected speaker. They wanted me to give a speech, but I said no. My grades were awesome, but they weren’t the best, and I didn’t do anything any more special than the others. I didn’t want to be up there speaking just because I was the inspirational handicapped guy. Iris understood, she always understands. When they call my name to the stage, I look at her as I accept my degree, there are happy tears in her eyes, and she mouths to me, “I love you,” which I repeat back to her.

Dinner afterwards is far from boring, Caitlin brings the old guy, who really isn’t as old as I thought, and Cisco brings this new lady he’s dating, a beautiful woman named Mari who makes her own clothes. I also get some kickass gifts. Iris even saved her last four royalty checks to get me that expensive ass microscope I’ve been looking at. I tell her I can’t possibly accept it and she tells me to put a sock in it. I love her so goddamn much.

We go home relatively early because I get tired so easily when I’m relapsing, honestly I could have gone a few more hours but I’m trying not to push myself too hard when I don’t have to, and Iris has some pages to work on anyway. But before we leave the restaurant Joe pulls me aside.

“I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” he says.

“Yeah? Should I be worried?”

“No, nothing like that,” he assures me. “It’s just, turns out Spivot’s a really good CSI, better than I hoped for.”

“Wow, really good to hear the woman you passed me up for is working out so well,” I say, I really need to stop being so much of a smartass, it just comes so natural to me.

“She is, so well in fact when one of our main CSIs decided to pack it up for Metropolis I decided to promote from within, I gave her the position.”

“Everything’s coming up Patty, are you going somewhere with this by the way?”

“Well, we have an assistant position that needs filling, and I can’t help but think you’re the man for the job Allen, to tell the truth I knew four months ago when you helped save my daughter, but now, I couldn’t be more sure.”

I have to make sure he isn’t fucking with me, granted I don’t see what reason he has, but still, I learned to mistrust good news a long time ago.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“As a heart attack, and this isn’t the nepotism talking, you’re smart, you’re capable, and you’ll be a part of a good team, and I know for a fact that you’ve got a knack for team work, no matter how much you try to act like an antisocial little shit.”

My father in law is calling me an antisocial little shit, but somehow it doesn’t feel like it, it feels like he’s telling me I belong. In spite of the crutches, in spite of the history, in spite of my general personality, I belong.

“You know…” I start, trying not to tear up. “You know I won’t be able to do it forever, right?”

He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

“I know son,” he says, and I really do think I might cry. “I know.”

I was right. It is a good day

****

When I come home from my third day of work —which is rad case you were wondering—I realize Iris has company, and I suppose I do too. I’m off the crutches and dressing a little differently, I still don’t really wear ties because fuck ties, but I’ve made peace with tucked in button downs, and aside from the scruff, I pretty much look exactly like the guy sitting on my couch right now.

To be honest I never thought I’d see them again, even though they swore we’d meet again, now they’re here, and other Iris is hugging me and other Barry is clapping me on the back saying it’s great to see me, and it’s actually pretty great to see him too.

We pull some extra chairs around the small table, one from Iris’s drawing desk and the other a metal folding chair we take to the park sometimes, and my Iris makes us all coffee.

“So, as great as it is to see you, that isn’t the only reason I’m here,” Barry says, and I listen closely.

“After I thought Iris was gone, I had to get away for a while, just clear my head, take some time for myself. So I decided to go to Earth 2 for six months.”

Earth 2, they told me about Earth 2, about how every scientist there is like Einstein on steroids, and Iris is this amazing detective. I wonder if the main reason he went there was because he just wanted to be somewhere where she was still alive, where he could see her face and hear her voice, even if he couldn’t touch her. I decide to keep that question to myself.

“I wanted to do some good, but in a way that I could keep to myself for a while, so I worked with this doctor there, Dr. Christina McGee, she basically used some of my enhanced stem cells to engineer a host of new treatments for a number of debilitating illnesses.”

“Including yours,” Other Iris says. And this can’t be happening, this can’t possibly be real.

“Now it isn’t a cure,” Barry says. “But 83 percent of test subjects saw a significant decrease in severity and frequency of relapses, and considering earth 3 candidates operate at a lower frequency, chances are it would be even more beneficial to you.”

If I don’t say something I might wake up, and I don’t want to, so I rub the back of my neck anxiously and put one word in front of another.

“And you’re saying I can have this pill… or shot or whatever, no questions asked?”

“First of all, it’s a pill, and second, there will definitely be questions. One of McGee's teams is setting up shop in Earth 3 for a year, she wants to start trials on alternate dimensions and she wants to start here, although I might have had something to do with that decision.”

It’s like I said, those E2 science fuckers are no damn joke.

“What do you say?” Other Iris chimes in. “Do you want to participate in the trial? You’ll be compensated generously.”

“And they told me it shouldn’t interfere with your Job,” My Iris says. “You basically just take a pill a few times a day and track your progress and symptoms with a journal, and you have to have a check-up and complete a few surveys every week.”

“And I know this is a lot and you might have reservations, so I brought along a copy of the extensive research notes taken during the initial trial.”

He reaches into his satchel and takes out a stack of papers thicker than War and Peace and bound in space agey plastic. He hands it over and I open it to glance at the first page. I can’t wait to tear into this thing later tonight.

“And that’s yours by the way, we have a —

“Hold up, just a second,” I say, cutting off Barry. “Why the hell would I say no to this?”

“Wait, seriously,” Barry says. “You’re on board?”

“I pop more pills a day than I can count, given to me by guys I’m supposed to trust because they have a fancy piece of paper on their walls, and you think I’m not going to trust the guys who saved my wife? Are you kidding, when can I start?”

Other Barry and other Iris smile and take each other’s hands, while my Iris wraps her arms around me, I can taste her happy tears when she kisses me.

Scratch that, this is going to be a good life.

**Stay tuned for the epilogue folks!**

 


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one everybody. I just want to thank you all for the support of this story and all of your lovely comments and kudos they mean the world!

**Earth 3: 2 years later**

I’m trying to spot the differences, they’re a little more pronounced now that a few weeks have passed. Nora Dawn’s eyes are green, like Barry’s, and her hair is curlier than her brother’s. Donovan Joe is longer and skinnier than his sister, and his eyes are deep brown like mine. Cisco from Earth one vibed me a picture of the twins from the other earth and the same is true for them. I guess with the way the parallel worlds work, we were more likely than not to have the twins at the same time. It is a little creepy that we picked the same names though, although I’m thinking of calling them Nora and Van instead of Don and Dawn, at least until they’re old enough to choose for themselves. Wally calls them thing one and thing two, but somehow it’s cute. Dad calls them buddy and champ, I still don’t know which is meant for which.

They’re already their own people in every way. Van is always crankiest in the morning, and likes to punch at the air while he sleeps. Nora is already smiling and does it the most when Barry reads to her, he does the funny voices and everything. She’s completely got him wrapped around her finger already, but that’s okay, I get it 100 percent. I’m in love with these babies. The second I felt Van punch me from the inside I knew that I would walk 1,000,000 miles for that boy, that I would slay dragons for my daughter, that I would die for them both.

I’m watching them sleep now. When they’re older one of them can move into the extra room, but for now they don’t like being apart. I reach into the crib and trace my finger around the little cinnamon roll shape Nora makes with her fist, after a while Barry comes up behind me, kisses my shoulder and wraps his arms around my waist.

“You coming to bed?” he says, his voice thick and groggy.

“Yeah, soon,” I say. “I just want to watch them a little more.”

“’kay,” he says. He stills next to me and we just stand there in silence for a minute.

“I just still can’t believe they’re ours,” I say. “That we’re all a family. I don’t know, I just… there was a time, before you, when I didn’t think it was possible. I thought because I came into the world alone that I was going to go through it alone too.”

I turn around to face him, and I know I’m going to cry. I’ve been super emotional lately, crying at the drop of the hat over the slightest provocation, but he makes it okay, somehow he always does.

“Then I saw you,” I say. “And I knew, I just knew that I was going to be all right, that I wasn’t alone anymore.”

He tilts to rest his forehead against mine, and I twine our fingers. I know we can’t do anything yet, probably not for about another two weeks on top of the seven that have already passed. They really did a number on me coming out, but all will be forgiven if they work hard, look out for each other, and become the amazing people I know they already are. It’s not always easy, this is one of the few times since they were born that they’re asleep at the same time and my nipples haven’t been this sore since I got them pierced freshman year of college, but I wasn’t expecting easy. Every truly good thing in the world is hard at some point, it’s how we learn to make them even better. It’s like Barry’s MS, a lot of hard work went into creating the treatment that’s had him walking solidly on his feet for eight months and counting, and a lot of hard work still needs to be done to one day make the relapses stop all together. But when I look into the future I see him playing with our kids in the park, I see him dancing at their weddings, I see a chance.

The hard work will pay off here too, I can feel it. I know that we’re going to fuck up as parents sometimes, that we aren’t going to be perfect because we never have been, but we’re going to love these kids more than anything, more than ourselves. And one day, they’re going to make us proud.

 

 

**That's all folks!**


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